


The Seventh Player

by Yalamodo



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Useless Lesbians, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-01-22 19:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 311,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21307712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yalamodo/pseuds/Yalamodo
Summary: In this retelling of the Fantasy High Campaign, a seventh player will be forced to admit that no one can stand alone. As Adaine and her new friends grow closer amid mystery and danger, can they learn not only to trust each other on the battlefield but off it as well? The same plot but with a new character to explore more complex aspects of relationships, platonic and romantic.
Relationships: Adaine Abernant/O.C.
Comments: 163
Kudos: 37





	1. The Beginning Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Some quick notes before we begin. In order to make the campaign more or less the same with seven characters, I will be increasing the number of "minions" for fights where that is the primary relevant factor. Other small alterations may be made to fights as enemies die at different points. Most of the original content occurs during downtime. Otherwise, this will be near identical to the Fantasy High campaign as uploaded since this is the best D&D campaign ever. A lot of this includes direct quotes, which is partially responsible for the poor punctuation. Also, it should go without saying, if you haven't seen Fantasy High, some of this might not make sense.
> 
> Big thank you to Rowan12628 for the art that is now my icon. You are a gem of an artist and a beautiful human being!

Dimension 20: Fantasy High – The Seventh Player

**Chapter 1: The Beginning Begins**

Machaira Mekhit opened her eyes to the predawn gloom and grunted, reluctantly slinking out of the pile of furs and blankets that made her bed and throwing on a set of sweat pants and a T-shirt before striding down to the creek five minutes north of her camp. Every day, without fail, Machaira washed her fur twice. She didn't avoid getting dirty when necessary, but she always felt more comfortable when her coat was clean and dry. She washed quickly, the cold water helping her wake up. She forced herself to look at her reflection before redressing, a daily ritual to strengthen her resolve. The goddess's words echoed back to her: _know what you are, and accept it, before you can change it_. Her claw tips slid out to part the damp strands of tawny fur, a soothing sensation in its familiarity.

Most tabaxi were tall, thin creatures with delicate cheetah builds that almost seemed ethereal in their movements. Machaira was built more akin to a tiger or jaguar, certainly not bulky, but more muscular than others of her kind. At 5'3, her broad shoulders, skull, and muzzle made her quantifiably ugly to other tabaxi. Her arms, toned and hard as stone, resembled training dummies for broad sword classes. Abdominals defined through her coat were marred by a thick curve of white from where she HAD been struck by a broad sword. Machaira rubbed herself dry, feeling the uneven skin on her left side where a displacer beast's tentacles had raked her. Black rosettes blossomed over her body as her fur dried and fluffed. Tight jeans came next, hiding the blink dog bites on her legs. She pulled her tail, as long as the rest of her body and thick as her arm, through a hole in the fabric, ignoring the nick at the end. A sleeveless white vest followed, a relic from her more promiscuous days, soothing against the old burns on her back. The **V** at the neck was a little too deep for her taste these days, but the vest was comfortable and replaced the need for a bra. She paused, examining the claw marks that ran across her chest through the dip in the fabric before pulling on a wyvern scale jacket. Machaira buttoned the little white bone buttons up to her neck and tugged at the sleeves. The jacket was the only nice thing she owned, and Machaira had kept it in excellent condition.

Machaira slung a ratty backpack full of second or third-hand books over her shoulder and sheathed her saber at her side opposite her crossbow. She walked for a few minutes through the Far Heaven Woods before stopping on a ridge that offered a view of Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Machaira took a deep breath, ears and tail flicking. She tapped her bracelet, a band of blue scales with red scales forming the symbol of Bast. For as long as she could remember, Machaira had been the one taking care of herself. Elmville was a largely human-centric town, and in the weeks she had been knocking about town Machaira hadn't seen even one other tabaxi. Since Machaira was an outcast among her own kind, this strangely worked for her. She had abandoned their culture years ago, a fact she silently flaunted with her bracelet to Bast and damaged ears. Machaira had only a few small white cuts on her muzzle and a tear-shaped poison burn on her neck, but her ears had been shredded from rough living. Leaving them exposed in public would be considered obscene back home – not that she hadn't been considered obscene before. At Aguefort, she might at least be tolerated by some of her peers.

Machaira kept walking, reminding herself why she subjected herself to this. Machaira wanted nothing more than to make the world a better place. But when puberty hit, the unsupervised teen nearly destroyed her life picking ridiculous fights, dressing dangerously risqué, and putting substances into her body that had no business being there. As a young, lonely, female tabaxi she had attracted all the wrong attention. A warning from Bast went unheeded, and eighteen hours later a traumatized Machaira had to take a good look at herself in the mirror to see how low she had fallen. Getting fully clean took six months, time Machaira rapidly matured in. She realized that killing a monster here or a thug there just made room for a new monster or thug. She needed direction and training to learn how to really improve the world, and Aguefort did not require guardian approval, proof of citizenship, or identification of any kind. She had passed the physical exam with flying colors, scraped by on the written, and applied for enough scholarships that she could cover tuition. A weekend job mowing lawns and doing yard work provided enough money to afford a few required books and notebooks, pencils, toiletries, a basic first aid kit, and thread to mend her clothes. Coming here was an admission that she wasn't good enough. Coming to Aguefort would be an exercise in strength and patience.

Machaira's tail swished over the grass, ever betraying her thoughts. Aguefort required students to form a party that would work together for the entirety of their time at school. She didn't know what she really wanted from the other students. She knew to expect poor treatment, but she hoped for some basic respect. She had temporarily tabled the idea of dating, but maybe this could be an opportunity for something…different. Her mind carefully omitted the term friend, not sure quite what that meant to her. Her claws flexed over the strap of her backpack. Truthfully, she did not know where she fit in the world anymore. She understood, or thought she did, right from wrong. But where did she come into the picture? As the stone and steel of the school flung its shadow at her feet, Machaira answered the silent challenge and tilted her chin up. Metaphysical questions could wait. Class would start soon.

"**Everything is just like something else" – Wilma Thistlespring**

"I'm Fabian Seacaster! Son of Bill Seacaster! And I'm here to be great!" Machaira kept her face calm as she ascended the front steps, the only student not gawking at an unprovoked attack against the towering half-orc. As Fabian finished his declaration, Machaira took one step past him, whipped around behind his back, and slashed down his spine from shoulders to waist. The feel of flesh tearing under claws brought a strange reassurance. Fighting she understood. The half-elf staggered, and she kicked out one leg, dropping him to his knees before stomping on his back.

"Bullies are never great." Machaira turned to the half-orc, who was being nursed by a freckly redhead in a tie-dyed shirt. "You ok?" The half-orc, still holding a metal flower he had offered to Fabian, was trying to mutter some kind of chant to himself. The redhead girl was speaking to him in a soft, friendly tone.

"You seem really non-violent, and I think that's really cool. Violence is never the answer." The half-orc went into a rage. Machaira darted into the crowd. She didn't have a problem with orcish people, but she knew better than to stand next to a berserker. As The half-orc decked a rising Fabian, Machaira realized that her plan of hiding in a crowd of people staring at her, the only tabaxi present, with fresh blood dripping off her hand was not her best move. Fortunately, the hulking dragonborn disciplinarian with a cricket bat was so focused on the boys that she managed to slip under the radar.

As she pressed herself against the wall, back turned from the vice-principal, Machaira heard someone say, "Uh, I freaking love your orb. That thing is huge." Machaira glanced behind her to see a pretty, willowy senior with a stack of fliers on the stairs over an elven girl holding a gigantic crystal ball. Machaira frowned. Intrigue over the ball aside, the elven girl was the only student present wearing a uniform. Was she supposed to wear one? If it was a religious garment, Machaira didn't recognize it. In her musings, the conversation continued. "Listen, I don't know if you have space to carry it with that giant orb you're carrying, but this is, uh, this is a little ballot. We're basically having, like, a vote, because for, like, a long, long time, it's, like, never, Aguefort hasn't had a king and queen at prom, and me and my boyfriend, Dayne, we're, like, trying to, like, I'm a part of the yearbook club, and we're basically trying to, like, get that back, like, bring that tradition back."

"What does that mean? What does being prom king and queen mean?" Machaira thought at first that the elven girl had been asking what that run-on sentence meant. That's what she was wondering anyway.

"Well, there's, like, a vote, right, that has, if enough students say they want it, we'll do, like, a vote, and people can, like, vote for prom king and queen, and they'll have a special dance, and it'll be really fun."

"They just get a special dance? That's what that means?" To Machaira, it was a fair question. But the sunniness immediately evaporated from the other girl's eyes. The elf with the ball saw this at once, and their body language announced what would happen milliseconds before she swept on. "Is that, yeah, ok, I'll vote. Yeah, I don't really understand-"

"You should vote for it. And just as, like, an aside, like, it's going to be a lot easier for you at Aguefort, 'cause I can tell you're a freshman, it's gonna be a lot easier if you ask less questions, 'cause, like, probably, like, it'll become clear the more time you spend."

"It's actually fewer questions." The elf's reply was hardly a whisper. Machaira almost didn't notice it, her head hazing in the elf's fear-scent. But the younger girl stood straight and stared directly at her elder as she spoke. Machaira's opinion of her quickly shot up.

"Sorry?" The older student's voice carried a thinly veiled threat as only a young woman could.

"No, okay, I'll sign it." Machaira hated the instant retreat but reluctantly accepted it. This was a type of tyrant that had to be fought subtly, and no freshman on her first day could muster the necessary social power. A big blonde human in a letterman jacket turned half-vacant eyes on his girlfriend.

"Babe, it's fewer questions. Less questions is wrong, grammatically." Ironically one of the dumbest moves on his part probably saved the younger elf. The senior shot him an unamused simper before turning back to her target.

"Fine, Dayne. Okay, so, um, why don't you just, like, take the ballot-"

"Yeah, I'll take it, I'll take it, thank you."

"And you can vote-"

"Yeah, I'll vote. Where do I, where do I, where do I vote?

"There's little boxes out in front of the assembly which we're going to now."

"Oh, great."

"Welcome."

"Thank you."

"Cute outfit. It's like you go to a different school than here." The senior giggled. Machaira hated every second of this social dominance. "Fun. Let me know if you need help stashing that orb." The freshman girl panted loudly, small chest heaving noticeably. Her irregular heartbeat shook in Machaira's ears. The elf with the orb managed a nod and a fast step toward the assembly, trying to juggle a pencil and the paper. Machaira repressed a snarl, waiting to head to the assembly until it was clear that she was not following anyone in particular. Machaira took a seat on the bleachers off to the side. A wood elf with Tiefling horns sat on the row in front of Machaira and immediately placed her hand on the fire alarm. With that lovely omen, a microphone crackled to life.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your principle, mister Arthur Aguefort!" A man with dark skin and a purple corduroy suit stepped out to the podium, umbrella in hand. Everything from the monocle barely covering his left eye to his waist-length beard screamed wizard. But, for clarity's sake, he pulled a hand out of his pocket with a saucer and a cup of tea on it. One enthusiastic goblin covered in trash began to clap, hesitantly followed by the redhead cleric from before until they realized no one else was joining in. Machaira's whiskers twitched up before the principle spoke.

"Welcome, one and all, to another exciting year here at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, where we train the next generation of adventurers. And what is an adventurer? One who goes on adventures? I say that an adventurer is a hero, and what is a hero? A hero is someone with the strength of heart, courage of spirit, and the might of will to go to strange lands and enact violence on things there. We go to places where there are things that must be destroyed, and we destroy them. Wandering from town to town, getting into trouble, meeting in drophouses and taverns, and getting into scrapes with the law, and otherwise finding ourselves engaged in all matters of tomfoolery and shenanigans, sometimes violent, sometimes fatal. Yes, fatal. And a hero is a violent wanderer who enacts their will bloodily and with strange magics upon the world."

"But does a hero truly stand alone? Ha ha ha ha ha, no, the strength of the hero is the strength of the party, and what is a party? A gathering of friends, perhaps with some alcoholic beverages, some fun music, ha ha ha, a jape! For all of you, a party is a group that comes together to embellish each other's strengths and eradicate each other's weaknesses. A party is composed of those who have sworn themselves to each other, to make themselves greater than the sum of their parts. Perhaps we have flaws within us, perhaps we don't cast magic and we need someone who can cast magic to help us when we need magic. Perhaps we're very tough and can sustain a lot of injuries, but we need somebody who is very good at hurting people there with us as well. Perhaps we need a sneaky person to sneak. Not always, sometimes you don't need that. But occasionally, in circumstances where you do need one, you REALLY need one, right, with traps and other things like that. That is the meaning of party, and party is the meaning of hero, and never forget, all of you - "

He took a sip of his tea and grimaced. "Uhg, it's bad, never forget that the greatest magic of all is chronomancy, the magic of time. Welcome to your first year, freshmen, at the AGUEFORT ADVENTURING ACADEMY!" The principle burst into light and disappeared. The tiefling in front of Machaira slowly removed her hand from the fire alarm with a soft _whoa_. The dragonborn Goldenhoard moved up to the podium and talked a bit about potential orientation events. Machaira bit her lip, pondering, before deciding the insight class for rogues and wizards would be a good starting point.

As she approached the library, she noticed the elf with the crystal orb in the entrance way. The elf worried her lip for a bit before holding her hand out. A book zipped into her outstretched palm. The girl stuffed it into her backpack and blinked. She blinked again. Slowly her expression unraveled into incomprehension and her breath came fast and shallow.

"Oh shit, oh god, oh my god." Machaira could smell her fear, a sour flavor to the scent alerting her to the problem. A panic attack. This girl wasn't so much a coward as she was untreated. Something twisted in her heart for this girl that had tried to stand up for herself against the school's social power. Machaira knelt in front of her and spoke softly.

"Hey." The elf looked up, already wide eyes flashing as she beheld Machaira's scarred muzzle, glowing eyes, shredded ears, and hooked fangs. _So much for comforting presence_. Machaira thought bitterly. But she had already committed. Pretending that she didn't know this girl was clearly terrified of her, Machaira placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Is this about the book?" The elf nodded shakily. "That's ok. That's a fixable problem, alright. Look at me, ok, and just breathe." Machaira took a long, deep inhalation and slow exhalation. Then another. "There you go, you're ok, we can fix this." The elf's eyes latched onto hers, and Machaira hoped she would begin to calm down. Then the redhead cleric girl walked up.

"Hey, are you ok?"

"No." The elf exhaled, barely audible.

"I saw what you did, and I thought was pretty awesome." The tiefling from the assembly had popped up unseen despite her red skin, punk clothes, and horned bass guitar.

"Oh god, no, the goth kid thinks I'm cool." The elf's voice trembled as she tried to hide inside her shirt.

"That was so cool." The tiefling confirmed.

"Oh, I like your giant orb. Here, let me make it glow." The cleric cast a light cantrip on the orb, and the hallway filled with pulsing golden light, immediately attracting the attention of all students present and one vice principle Goldenhoard. Machaira barely held back a groan.

"Very nice use of a light cantrip. What is your name, young student?"

"Oh, I'm Kristen Applebees."

"Kristen Applebees, wonderful to meet you. I'm vice principle Goldenhoard."

"Oh, hi." The dragonborn turned his attention to the elf.

"Young lady, are you alright?" The elf gasped and gulped for air. Machaira gently squeezed her shoulder.

"I found this book." She breathed. Goldenhoard arched a scaly eyebrow.

"You found – Sorry, you found a book?"

"She's covering for me, I stole it; and she caught me stealing it." The tiefling interjected, flashing a smile at the VP.

"No I didn't, I didn't, she didn't steal, I stole it. I'm so sorry, I was, I was, I'm sorry. I'm new. I don't know what I'm doing." The elf blurted.

"We all fall short of the grace of god." Kristen told her.

"Mm, you know, I wouldn't, that's a bit strong for this, I would say, that's a bit strong." Goldenhoard moderated. "This is not appropriate, that you've done this. Kristen, would you mind taking the book to Principle Aguefort's office for me?"

"Yeah, sure." Kristen turned on heel and walked off, completely unconcerned with how much she had compromised the situation.

"Now, young lady, what was your name?"

"Adaine Abernant." Adaine hardly had the breath to enunciate her name.

"Miss Abernant, oh yes, you've come to us from Hudol. I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you detention. So, you'll be staying late after school today. Do you understand?" Adaine nodded, the worst of her panic attack beginning to subside as the consequences no longer loomed over her. "Alright, this is not fun for me. You're clearly having a bad time. I'm second guessing what I'm doing, even as I'm doing it, wondering if there's some medical stuff going on that I don't know about. But I'm going to do it as I've already talked out loud, and other students can hear this."

"Yeah, I can hear it all, hi." The tiefling interjected, smiling and shaking her brown hair to the side.

"Hey, for real, we're not gonna do this," Goldenhoard told her, waving a red finger between the two of them. "You think we have a thing, but we don't have a thing. That's where you're wrong. We don't have a thing. You have a thing."

"Who's running detention?" The tiefling giggled. Machaira honestly didn't know if she had a crush on the VP or just wanted to make everyone uncomfortable.

"Good grief, you are going to detention, here's your slip – young lady, why is there blood all over your hand?" Machaira's ears flattened as the disciplinarian's attention swiveled from the tiefling to Adaine to her still bloody hand on Adaine's shoulder. _Oops_, she thought. Machaira took her hand off Adaine as if burned and stared up at the principle. "Are you the one that slashed that young man, Fabian?" Machaira opened her mouth, closed it, then spoke.

"I, uh, really want to say no, but I don't think you're going to buy that, so…. detention well earned?"

"Very much so," Goldenhoard responded, handing her a slip as well. The hulking reptile stomped off. The tiefling smirked and flounced away without a word, leaving Machaira kneeling awkwardly in front of Adaine. Adaine seemed to be just shy of another attack, and Machaira felt her own posture shrink inward.

"Um, sorry about that. I, uh, feel like I made things worse."

"It's, it's fine," Adaine stammered, glancing between Machaira's bloody hand and fangs. Machaira bit her lip, forcing back the familiar dread ostracization. "Listen, um, I'm sorry if I freaked you out with the blood, and, um, fangs."

"It's fine." Adaine repeated. Machaira swallowed the irrational sense of shame that came from knowing that wasn't true. She stood, holding out her not bloody hand to Adaine who reluctantly accepted.

"Uh, look, let me make it up to you. I can, um, carry your orb to your locker for you, or something, if you want." Machaira awkwardly held out her hands. "You look really uncomfortable holding it." She wasn't sure why she was trying so hard to be on good terms with this girl, but for some reason she wanted Adaine to be more at ease with her, or at least less afraid of her.

"Oh god, my dad gave it to me," Adaine muttered. "Sure, yes, thank you." Machaira took the still glowing orb, surprised by its heft. Why on earth would anyone fight with something so big?

"Um, I'm Machaira." The tabaxi held out her right hand, realized it was still crusted red, and shuffled the orb into the crook of her right arm to hold out her left hand twisted around for Adaine. Adaine shook her hand, looking about as comfortable as Machaira felt.

"Hello, I'm Adaine Abernant, but then you already heard me say that." Machaira felt her tail lash across the hallway, sweeping in a huge arc left and right, forcing students to scramble out of the way. She swore her blush was showing through her fur.

"I, uh, heard you talking to that senior, Penelope," Machaira said without thinking, desperate to break the silence. Adaine's face crumpled. "You, uh, got a read on her pretty quickly. And, uh, it was cool how you called out her bullshit about the dance and her grammar. I, uh, really respected that." Machaira's shredded ears were pressed as hard as they could be against her head, eyes flickering between Adaine's face and the stupid orb.

"Oh, um, thanks, I guess," Adaine stammered. Machaira forced herself to breath evenly.

"So, um, if you don't mind me asking, why did you take that book?" Adaine sighed and closed her eyes.

"Because my stupid sister told me it was something you were supposed to do on the first day, and she always lies, but I did it anyway, and I don't know what I'm doing here - "

"Neither do I," Machaira stepped in. "But isn't that why we're here, to learn?" Adaine looked at her, tilting her head a bit.

"I guess so." Machaira shuffled her feet a bit, hind claws flexing in her socks.

"Look, um, I don't know where my locker is, much less yours, so…"

"Oh, god, right, of course." As Adaine and Machaira walked together through the halls, Machaira was painfully aware of Adaine's gaze going toward her fangs and ears. Students yelled at Machaira as her tail whipped low across their path, and she kept her eyes determinedly on the orb in her hands. "I'm so sorry, I'm being so rude." Adaine spoke up, looking away from Machaira's prominent teeth.

"It's alright, I'm used to being stared at," Machaira muttered.

"No, it's not, I'm sorry," Adaine took a big breath and switched topics. "So, why did you attack that boy?"

"Oh, um, I don't like bullies." Machaira responded hesitantly. "People like that Penelope girl, they're bullies you can't fight directly. You need to undermine them by getting other people to stand up to them. But that Fabian guy was just a jerk trying to be big. People like that are easy to fight. Fighting is simple. I'm, uh, not a smart girl. The simplicity of fighting appeals to me because it's something I can actually do."

"I think you're smart." Machaira knew Adaine was just trying to be polite, but even that little bit of effort was appreciated. Her tail lifted up with her lips and whiskers, smiling without showing her teeth.

"Thanks. Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly is this for?" Machaira lifted the orb slightly. "It seems kind of… impractical?"

"It is one hundred percent impractical." Adaine confirmed. "Some friend of my dad once used it, but my dad never did. You're supposed to use it as a focus point for spells, but it's so big and heavy I feel like it's going to get me killed."

"You could drop it on their feet and pin them to the floor," Machaira suggested. Adaine gave her a genuine smile, and Machaira's tail rose higher. Maybe this school wouldn't be all bad.

"**Elves are so lame. Oh my god, just so many –th soundings." – Figueroth Faeth (Fig)**

Machaira awkwardly sat next to the other six kids with detention, Kristen brushing creamed corn off of her bible. They had sat together only because there was only one table at the edge of the room available. The tiefling Fig waved at the lunch lady one last time before lighting up a cigarette, eliciting a gasp from Kristen and attracting an increasing annoyed Goldenhoard. Machaira, who couldn't afford a school lunch, had accidently stood in line with the others and was forced to quietly decline the foul-smelling meal. She pulled a cloth bundle from her bag and unwrapped her lunch, a thick strip of dried meat.

"What is that?" Fabian asked Machaira imperiously, poking at his 'tuna' surprise.

"My lunch," Machaira told him, alert for potential retribution for her earlier attack.

"Well yes, but what is it? What is wrong with it?"

"It's jerky," Machaira told him, hackles beginning to rise. "As in dried meat. Have you never seen jerky before?"

"Why would you dry your meat?"

"To make it last longer." Machaira already didn't like Fabian's attitude and his superior confusion was grating her nerves. _Whump whump_. Her tail thwacked against the chair legs on either side of her. Adaine, who had chosen to sit on Machaira's immediate right, started. Surprisingly, it was Fig who intervened.

"I love your jacket." The tiefling lit up another cigarette. "You look awesome." Machaira immediately brightened, tail flicking up as she turned to smile at Fig.

"Thank you, I made it myself."

"You made that?" Fig's eyes widened with her grin. "That is so cool." If Machaira was honest with herself, she was a little starved for positive reinforcement in her life, and she lapped up Fig's enthusiasm like milk.

"It looks like it's made of scales," Adaine piped up.

"It is." Machaira realized her error as she made it. Everyone at the table turned to look at her. Machaira winced but straightened up. She'd given the game away; now she had to face the music. "I, um, hunt. Not trophy hunting, I don't know quite why people do that." _The mental exercise of tracking and stalking, the anticipation building to the rush of power in the attack, the thrill of life and death_, her mind supplied, reminding her that hunting was a sensation rooted in her blood and brain, a hunger that went beyond food. "Subsistence hunting. I, uh, grew up with it." Not a lie, but an obfuscation of the truth. "It's a good way to practice fighting and helps keep monsters under control. Plus, one good kill can feed me for weeks, so I don't have to go to the store where a lot of the food gets wasted." Numerically, her way of feeding herself meant that only a fraction of the number of creatures had to die to sustain her. "I don't let anything go to waste."

"So you're wearing the skin of something you've eaten?" Fabian asked, incredulous. Machaira's lips twitched in the beginnings of a snarl.

"Ever worn armor or boots? Then you've probably worn the skin of a cow." She countered.

"But why kill anything?" Adaine asked, a little alarmed. Machaira clenched her jaw. She didn't want to lose the progress she'd made with Adaine, but that was a tired and flimsy protest.

"Even if you're a vegetarian, you're killing a living thing to eat. Everything kills to eat, that's just how life works. By the time a human dies, thousands or millions of creatures died to sustain it, whether plants or animals. Plus, I can't digest plants too well. A lot of fruit and vegetable make me sick." Machaira looked the teens around her in the eyes one by one. If this cost her potential friendships so be it, but she would not ashamed of this part of her life. "I kill one monster, and I save the lives of everyone it was going to kill plus I keep myself alive. I can honestly say that I know and respect my food." Adaine tilted her head. Machaira could see the gears turning in there as she processed what Machaira was saying. The little goblin, Riz, The Ball, peered at her.

"Is that…wyvern skin?" He asked, awed. Machaira nodded, pride and self-consciousness fighting inside her. She briefly explained how a wyvern's mating display drains it of its venom supply and energy, preventing it from flying away or properly fighting back. "That is so rad." Fig and Adaine each felt the sleeve of her jacket, and Machaira had to fight back her instinct to push them off. Adaine quietly cast the identify spell, eyes glowing with magic.

"Oh my god," Adaine said, a touch of astonishment in her voice. "This is real wyvern skin."

"You sure you didn't buy it?" Fabian asked scathingly. Machaira gave him a dead pan look and showed him a set of red thread letters seamlessly sewn into either cuff on the jacket, one spelling her name and the other with her initials.

"Dude, that is metal ass fuck," Fig said, fingers dancing a riff over her bass. Adaine finally smiled.

"Ok, yeah, that's super cool." A laugh worked its way into her voice, and Machaira smiled. "Is that what you're eating, wyvern jerky?"

"I have before, but this is just boar. Good boar though." Machaira ripped off a bite of meat with her teeth, allowing the flavor to seep over her tongue before chewing. She preferred it freshly cooked, but jerky had been a staple of her diet for a long time.

"Can I have a bite?" The half-orc Gorgug asked quietly. Machaira smiled and ripped off a piece for him from the other end. There was something so genuine about him that she just adored. Riz asked next, and soon everyone but Fabian had tried a bite. Fig and Kristen weren't fans, and Riz would clearly eat anything, but Gorgug and Adaine seemed to enjoy it. Although she only asked for a small piece, Adaine smiled as she nibbled her bite while Gorgug wolfed his. Machaira knew elves, unlike orcs, didn't eat a lot of meat, but she was thrilled to finally have someone to share with. At the end of lunch, they all rose and walked to detention. When the little gnome Mr. Gibbons replaced Goldenhoard as their moderator, Machaira felt a glimmer of hope that this would be a bearable experience.

"Okay, so how do we feel about what we did?" Machaira's hope died.

"I technically have diplomatic immunity and – do I have to be here?" Adaine asked. Machaira frowned at the statement.

"I feel bad," Gorgug chimed in. "I didn't mean to punch you; I got so mad."

"I didn't do – I DID punch you, but it wasn't worth it, but I shouldn't be here. My crime was being too good for the blood rush team, and you scratched me." Fabian said with a long-suffering sigh and a finger pointed at Machaira.

"I scratched you, ok, maybe too badly, I'll admit, but I scratched you because you attacked him out of nowhere." Machaira rebutted. "You were being an ass."

"You punched him." Kristen frowned at Fabian.

"Yeah you punched him." Adaine repeated.

"Okay." Mr. Gibbons said, face blank and voice ethereal.

"Yeah, you punched him." Riz clarified. Machaira loved that the focus was not on her ripping a boy open on the front steps as everyone turned to Fabian.

"You punched him for no reason, even."

"Yeah, she had a reason."

"You're not being objective."

"I also admitted that I – " Fabian coughed. "I also admitted that I punched him; I said that."

"Wow, okay, so that's a lot of feelings, okay." Mister Gibbons droned on. Machaira wondered if he was high. "How's everything at home guys. Everything good?" Machaira utilized all her willpower to not react.

"It's great," Riz offered.

"Everything good at home?" The gnome repeated. "Okay, now, hey, now – "

"Why are you crying?" Kristen asked Fig.

"Why am I crying?" Fig asked, voice thick. Kristen hummed an affirmative. "Um, because I guess you tapped into something that, you know, maybe home's not great."

"Okay." Machaira wondered if the guidance counselor kept his voice vapid to dissuade people from thinking he was analyzing them.

"Maybe home's not great." Fig repeated, her voice breaking a bit.

"Okay, now those are strong feelings, okay, and I'm here to talk about anything, okay? If you have any problems – yes, right here?" Mister Gibbons broke off to address Adaine.

"Can't we just do lines instead of talking?" Adaine asked.

"Yes, Jesus Christ," Fabian agreed.

"Wow, wow, strong feelings all the way around." Mister Gibbons intoned. Machaira's previous theories lost credibility to the idea that maybe he neither knew nor truly cared about what anyone was saying. "Now there's something that I want to talk to all of you about." A piercing female scream tore through the room. Riz leapt up and bolted in the direction of it, Machaira and Fabian pounding on his heels. Kristen looked about for a moment and jogged behind the fighters. Fig yelled something about a jail break while Gorgug and Adaine glanced at each other nervously before scurrying after the group.

"Now hold on guys, don't go rushing into anything." Mister Gibbons warned. As the teens, ignoring the 'guidance' counselor, neared the source of the scream, Fig gasped.

"Doreen!" She yelled pouring on speed to crash through the cafeteria doors. Fabian, Riz, and Machaira poured in just after, the others a pace behind. Machaira's hackles rose at the sight of the dog-sized creatures that zipped about the room, wings buzzing as they snapped and snarled. A cob of corn with husk wings alighted on a nearby tabled, its cry half gnashing shriek and half baby burble, serrated leaf claws flailing wildly, eyes bulging over a wide mouth.

"So cute," Kristen gushed. Agreements drifted from the detention crowd. Other corn cuties were tearing at the walls and banners. At the far side of the cafeteria, lunch lady Doreen was slowing turning to gaze at them, sunken eyes glowing sickly yellow as arcane energy wrapped around her ladle.

"Hey kids, it's lunch time again, because we had lunch earlier, but bad lunch this time." Doreen intoned.

"I feel like if you have to explain the joke then it's not a good joke," Kristen offered.

"It was bad last time," Fabian rebutted.

"It's a bad lunch this time, it's a bad lunch." Doreen insisted.

"No!" Fig protested. Why Fig was defending a possessed woman's cooking, Machaira wasn't sure. A monstrous ooze of creamed corn began to pseudopod its way from the kitchen, gurgling angrily. A grin worked its way onto her face. Machaira unsheathed her saber with a growl of anticipation, tail twitching with the excitement before a fight. Fighting was simple. Fighting she understood. Machaira liked fighting.


	2. Clash of the Corn Cuties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cuties are nothing compared to the tables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So most battle chapters will be almost cookie cutter from the show, as stated previously. Battle chapters will also be standalones, so they will only entail the fight sequences and events immediately before or after. While I understand if some of you are less enthusiastic about these chapters, I would be remiss not to include them.

**Chapter 2: Clash of the Corn Cuties**

Fabian initiated the battle by leaping at the corn cutie on a nearby table, tripping over a bench, and face planting. "It's not my fault, alright; I'm tired from tryouts earlier." Fabian protested, rising and brushing off his jacket. "I mean the tables are so high here, just…so high! I'm a runner, not a jumper okay." With that promising start, lunch lady Doreen raised her ladle and grinned.

"Oh, you kids aren't going anywhere!" A swirl of energy rushed forth to shut the doors shut. Recipes written in draconic and runic languages for government approved lunches glowed over the doors, sealing them. Adaine took a shaky breath, muttered 'fuck' to herself, and began to run forward, weaving across the center path to try and dodge incoming corn cuties. Machaira followed, whipping out her crossbow in her left hand to fire at a corn cutie in the back of the room. The fluttering corn cob wailed, bursting into chaff and kernels as the bolt pierced it. Machaira slipped the crossbow back onto her belt as another cutie approached, screeching and gnashing.

Gorgug looked about and scrambled ungracefully onto the table Fabian fell off of. His axe hit nothing but air as the gremlin fluttered about, its jerky, erratic movements quick enough to startle the half-orc into jumping back half a pace. Riz zipped along the side of the table and nimbly hopped up in one jump. Briefcase in one hand and rapier in the other, Riz skewered the corn cutie, which wailed and gurgled before shedding kernels and withering away. Kristen attempted to vault onto a different table, got her staff stuck between the table and the bench, and stumbled back. Machaira could hear corn cuties snarling and fluttering about Kristen and Fig behind her, but she directed her focus on those in front of her, Doreen, and the corn ooze psuedopoding out of the kitchen toward a red door.

"You're just another maternal figure that has let me down," Fig yelled, rushing past corn cuties toward Doreen. A corn cutie swiped at her as she ran past, and Fig yelled in pain. "You're so cute though." Fig gushed behind her.

"I'm not!" The corn cutie protested. Fig ignored it, slung her bass around, and struck a low, deep thrum, sending waves of dissonant whispers toward Doreen. The older woman staggered. Fig cheered and tried to split, but only managed to make it halfway down before getting stuck. Somehow Machaira didn't feel that they were quite ready for this fight. Doreen reeled back a half pace before rightening herself with a manic grin.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that, sweetie, ha ha."

"Why did you inspire me if you had this plan?" Fig asked. Doreen did not react, only beckoned more corn cuties forward. As Machaira readied herself for the oncoming corn cuties, Fig gasped and yelled out, "Guys, it's not Doreen, the corn is what's bad! Doreen is just the conduit."

"We already knew that," Kristen responding, swinging at and missing a corn cutie. As the corn ooze slid further across the floor toward what she assumed was the pantry door, a multitude of…buttholes appeared in its pulsating outer membrane. Machaira lost focus for a moment trying to process what she was seeing, but there could be no mistaking it. The corn ooze had corn holes. What the hell kind of school had she enrolled in? The assholes quivered, rippled, and belched three corn cuties from what were clearly sphincters and not wombs. School lunch at its worst.

"Everyone look; I'm good!" Despite herself, Machaira turned to watch as Fabian effortlessly performed a triple backflip over two tables, giving the corn cutie he landed next to more than enough time to dodge out of the way of what otherwise would have been a very impressive maneuver.

"I was never a role model for anyone, sweetheart," lunch lady Doreen croaked. Machaira cursed herself and whirled around to see Doreen dip her ladle into the steam bar. "But I make the rules now."

"Don't you remember me?" Fig begged. "I played the drums for you, and you thought I was pretty good."

"You know what, I think you're in for a little SURPRISE!" Doreen cackled as she whipped a glob of tuna surprise from the bar. Fig stood boldly before Doreen, legs akimbo and mouth open, faith in the lunch lady evident in every line of her body. The tuna surprise hit Fig, filling the air with the smell of seared flesh and old fish as it burned against her skin. Fig screamed and crumpled to the floor, down for the count.

Adaine ran between the first and second rows of tables on the right, raised her crystal ball, and fired a bolt of lightning into the ooze. The monster screamed in pain, briefly stopping as its body trembled at the impact. The air filled with the smell of ozone and burned corn. Machaira made a mental note not to get on Adaine's bad side. The elf's face brightened with delight at her success.

Machaira ran around the front of the first row of tables, slashing at a corn cutie. The gremlin hissed and fluttered this way and that before diving toward her face. Machaira sidestepped and brought her blade up in a sweep, cleaving the cob in half. The creature wailed and shriveled, but she knew that killing the cuties only prolonged the battle. They needed to kill that ooze.

Gorgug ran up the path behind her and cleaved a corn cutie that had been zipping toward Fig's prone form. Machaira mentally chided herself for neglecting to protect their unconscious bard. The lanky orc blinked almost owlishly at the shorn cob, as if surprised by his own violence.

"I think it's going for the pantry!" Gorgug hollered suddenly.

"Thank you," Fabian shouted, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Did you guys not, okay, we didn't talk about it," Gorgug stammered. Riz hopped down into the next row and pulled out an arquebus. The knowledge that the nerdy goblin with a briefcase and business cards, who showed up to the assembly covered in trash, had brought a gun to school on his first day made Fig's cigarettes seem tame by comparison. If Machaira survived this, she had to get to know these people better. Clearly there was a lot going on beneath the surface here. Unfortunately, The Ball was a little overeager and fired wide, somehow missing the ten-foot-tall mass of steaming corn.

The corn cuties snarled and flew past Machaira toward Adaine. Machaira slashed at one as it passed by, showering the floor with kernels, but the other two rushed the young elf and tore at her with dry, rustling leaf claws. Adaine cried out and crumpled, blood streaming from cuts across her chest and head, orb crashing to the ground with a dull _thump_. Machaira yowled, enraged that two allies had been down right next to her by fucking corn. Fabian gasped behind her, and Gorgug yelped.

Another corn cutie launched itself at Machaira, slashing her leg. Machaira felt the sting of hot pain and sneered at the gremlin. This corn cutie was nothing more than a diseased dog, more bark than bite, something she had to put down to protect the other people in the room. Machaira snapped at the retreating creature, fangs bared in a warning snarl. Tail lashing, saber at the ready, blood hot in her veins and against her fur, Machaira felt alive, every instinct bent toward protecting the rest of the detention party. Somewhere in the back of her consciousness, a voice purred with pride, and Machaira's bracelet grew warm against her wrist.

Fortunately, Kristen was already running forward. "Praise be to Helio! Praise be to Sol!" She shouted, leaping onto the second row of tables to stand above Adaine and next to Fig. A soft golden light came down upon Fabian, Gorgug, and Riz, mellowing the tang of ozone and burned corn. Machaira felt a bit relieved that she had chosen to bless those three. She would not shun another's beliefs, but Machaira bowed to only one patron. Fig groaned the ground, shifting as she fought for life, cuties flitting about their heads. The ooze moaned, raised a pseudopod, and smashed it against the door. Creamed corn splashed over the walls, and the door dented.

"It's going for the pantry," Gorgug commentated.

"We know!" Kristen, Riz, and Machaira shouted.

"Shut up," Fabian rebuked.

"I just…" Gorgug started, the rest of his sentence falling away into a murmur. The sphincters clenched and more corn cuties defecated out, plopping onto the floor and taking flight. This was easily the weirdest monster Machaira had ever fought. Fabian flourished his rapier and evaporated a corn cutie. But Doreen only had eyes for Kristen, holding aloft the bible of Helio.

"Oh hey there, little girl. You think you're the chosen of corn god? Well, I was blind, but now you can't see." She fired a bolt of sickly yellow energy from her ladle. Before it could connect, a brighter yellow light flooded out from Kristen and filled the cafeteria, bringing with it the smell of fresh popcorn. Lunch lady Doreen was flung back over the steam bar and into a rack of plates in the kitchen, falling out of view amid a clatter of dishes as Helio intervened on his cleric's behalf. Soft exclamations echoed around the room. Impressive, but Machaira wished Helio would be a little more active in parenting his corn children.

Adaine groaned on the floor by Machaira's feet, blood welling from her wounds in thick, sticky rivers. Machaira cursed herself again for not preventing the attack, feinting to one side before slashing at the other, slicing a corn cutie out of the air. She didn't have the space to treat the young wizard's wounds, but she could at least provide cover. Another cutie bared its serrated leaves and lunged forward, only to be cut down by a charging Gorgug. The great axe slammed into the cutie, showering the first two rows of tables with corn and leaving an incision in the tiles.

"Not so cute anymore, are you?" Gorgug whispered next to her. The half-orc had a panicked look in his eyes, and Machaira wondered if this was his first combat even as she thanked him.

"What did you say man?" Riz hollered, reloading his arquebus.

"Huh?"

"You said something really quietly."

"What did you say to the corn?" Fabian asked as he fended off a circling gremlin.

"Are you still holding that flower?" Kristen asked, aglow with the light of Helio. Machaira swiped at a corn cutie while Gorgug shuffled to slip the tin flower into his pocket.

"What did you say to the corn?" Riz repeated.

"The pantry," Gorgug offered shyly.

"For god's sake, shoot the fucking ooze already," Machaira yelled, warding corn cuties away from Fig and Adaine, barely able to keep up with the jumpy minions.

"Oh, it's the pantry," Riz told Fabian.

"Great, great," Fabian groaned.

"He's going to the pantry," Kristen reiterated. Machaira hissed as a leaf grazed her arm, tearing her jacket and leaving a thin line of blood.

"Boys, please, we can go over this again with subtitles later." Riz took her jab to heart and rushed to stand just behind the first row of tables, poking his gun around the side and popping a bullet at the ooze. The starburst of displaced corn preceded a moan from the ooze, body shivering as its shape reformed with the regular number of holes. Okay, so they were hurting it but not by enough. An idea began to form in Machaira's head, but she couldn't enact her plan while covering for the two unconscious girls. Riz ducked under the table, completely unnoticed by the corn cuties.

One corn cutie lunged for Gorgug, slashing him across the stomach. Machaira's ears rang with his pained scream even as a cutie nailed her across the chest, ripping a two-foot gash from breast to stomach. She hissed, mouth salivating at the smell of blood. Her inner predator acknowledged the pain but focused instead on the enticing, jerky movements of the small creatures about her. Images flashed to mind of a group of taller children mobbing her, and a protective instinct flared again, eliciting another snarl.

The remaining corn cuties swarmed toward Kristen. An opportunity presented itself, and Machaira's saber flicked across a cutie. With next to no natural armor, her blade easily dissipated the grain minion, but she almost need not have bothered. Kristen glowed so brightly with holy light that the gremlins could not touch her. Her light warmed the air around them, popping a kernel on one of the sentient cobs. The monster screamed and fluttered back. The final gremlin swiped at Fabian, who easily dodged to the side with an unnecessary, "AHA!"

Kristen rushed through the flock of corn cuties, which retreated from her presence.

"This specific god, the corn one, is real!" Fabian yelled. Machaira would not be swayed from Bast's patronage, but she reluctantly admitted the corn god was saving their asses. Kristen touched Adaine, who immediately sat up with a gasp, eyes wild. Her wounds largely sealed, leaving only a small cut behind.

"Thank you," Adaine said shakily to Kristen.

"Your welcome. It was nice to touch you." Kristen responded. Kristen didn't seem to catch the double entendre, but Adaine blushed and stood up without another word.

"Do you touch people often?" Machaira asked innocently, swiping at a circling cutie. Adaine turned a deeper red, but Kristen still didn't catch on.

"Helio touches everybody." Machaira wasn't petty enough to poke fun at a person's deeply held beliefs for the sake of a shitty pun, but she really wished she was petty enough.

"We gotta help her," Gorgug called out, swinging his ax over the prone bard. Fig groaned on the floor, tuna sizzling against her skin. Weirdly, the tiefling was smiling, blood flowing down her nose. Was the tuna causing brain damage as well? They needed to revive her soon, but the battle was still heavy. The ooze reared its pseudopod and smashed the door again. The door bent further inward but did not break. Whatever it wanted, the ooze would have it soon. The creature excreted more corn cuties, an innate defense of bristling wings and bladed leaves.

Fabian ran forward toward the ooze, rapier in hand. One of the few previous corn cuties left lunged for him as he passed by but missed wildly. Fabian's rapier sank hilt deep into the ooze, which bellowed, pausing its assault on the door to consider Fabian over its 'shoulder'. Fabian's elation was short lived as Doreen staggered around the corner and pointed her ladle at Fabian, firing a barrage of tater tots that left steaming red welts across his body. Fabian stared at her in askance.

"Tater tots? You didn't mention those were on the menu." He accused. "I didn't know those were a choice. I would've chosen those."

"I make them for myself, and only I eat them, all by myself 'cause I'm crazy." Doreen cackled.

"How do you eat an entire school's worth of tater tots by yourself?" Machaira's question was more fascinated logistics than sarcasm. She wished she had that many tater tots for herself. Adaine frowned at lunch lady Doreen, studying her. Machaira could practically see the gears turning in her head before she reached out with one hand and pulled Doreen's ladle into it. The ladle lost its sickly glow at once. A simple spell, but the best weapons were simple, as any rogue could tell you.

"Nooo," Doreen bemoaned, spreading her hands helplessly. "The source of all my power! I need that for my power."

"She's really laying it out for us," Kristen chirped from her golden halo. "Like, it coulda gone either way."

"Guys, I think the ladle was the source of her power," Gorgug yelled, still standing over Fig.

"Gorgug, we know," Kristen groaned.

"Awww, dangit, Doreen, you're so bad at being evil." The lunch lady grumbled. Machaira hissed, ready to end this nonsense. Satisfied that Fig was well-guarded and Adaine was back in the fight, Machaira leapt over the table and charged the ooze. While Machaira didn't trip and fall, she did notice that the table had been heavily waxed. One, two, three steps to flank it and her saber slashed through the ooze's raised arm. Forty pounds of creamed corn splashed to the ground, splattering Machaira. She snarled and tried to kick the mass away from the ooze, but there was too much of it. The corn mass half bleated, half belched in pain, outer membrane rippling as it grew a new limb. She'd only managed to slow it down. So much for her plan. Machaira snarled and bounced on her toes, ready to evade a retaliation.

Behind her Gorgug grunted, his axe _whooshed_ through the air, a cutie wailed, and the thump of a heavy metal blade announced one more dead enemy. Riz took a pot shot from under the table, spraying corn and gun smoke over the cafeteria. The ooze groaned, clearly damaged, but too formless to cripple. Riz yelped as a corn cutie flew across the room to hit him, adding goblin blood to the scent mix. Gorgug cried out over Fig, a long red line ripping down his back as a corn cutie fluttered at him. Kristen continued to praise Helio, but the little gremlins had begun to lose fear. One snapped and swatted at the cleric, cutting her across the stomach. The little monster gargled happily as Fabian commentated.

"Phew, thank god, corn god isn't real. That was just a fluke." Machaira wanted to ask him what world he lived in where the existence of gods needed validation, but she was too busy ducking out of the way of a snarling corn. Kristen ran for Fig, her halo still repulsing the cuties enough that opportunistic strikes went wide as they straddled the line of fearful and aggressive. The smell of popcorn filled the air. Undeterred, the ooze raised its new arm and smashed the door with a roar, tearing down most of the wall with it. Machaira felt dread swirl in her stomach as the ooze moved toward a dozen or so human-sized drums of corn. Two more corn cuties popped out, mouths already working a froth in anticipation.

Fabian took a deep breath as elven magic surrounded him. Machaira could smell clean, salty sea air, briefly purifying the scents of blood, fear, and corn. His cuts mended themselves, and fresh energy shined in his eyes. Fabian ran around to the left, not even bothering to dodge a cutie's wildly inaccurate swipe. Fabian lunged, rapier sinking into the ooze past the hilt until his forearm was sheathed inside the gelatinous monster.

"Disgusting, oh my god, oh my god no, not on my pants" Fabian shivered briefly before his eyes widened. The ooze screamed, corn spittle bubbling out of its mouth. The corn cuties stopped what they were doing and turned to Fabian, high-pitched voices mimicking their parent's cry. "Ahh, uummm, there's, I, I hit something, there's something inside of the – " Fabian stammered.

"You don't have to sound so awkward about it," Kristen interrupted. Privately, Machaira wished these people could just let someone finish a sentence.

"No, I'm covered in fucking corn right now, alright." Fabian shot back. Doreen charged forward, dashing across the cafeteria for Adaine.

"Gimme back my ladle," the lunch lady demanded, trying to jump onto the first table and crashing headlong into the bench instead. Her forehead smashed into the table, and Adaine reached out and whacked her on the back of the skull with the ladle. Blood splattered over her refined high elf features.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!" Adaine rushed. "Oh god, I'm save the last dance." Machaira didn't get the reference, but Adaine was clearly terrified. Machaira slashed at the ooze again, tearing into its side to try and see what Fabian was talking about, but only more corn greeted her. As the gap slowly sealed with another wail form the ooze, Machaira could find nothing distinct.

Seeing that Kristen had stabilized Fig, Gorgug vaulted over the table toward the ooze. A corn cutie slashed him across the side as he ran, splashing blood across the floor. Gorgug yelled, stumbled, and struck a different corn gremlin in front of him, turning it into a pile of debris.

"Don't tell anyone about this!" Riz yelled, running for the ooze. Riz jumped, rolling into a ball, rapier out, and launched himself into one of the anuses. Machaira completely broke concentration for a good four seconds as everyone present, corn cuties included, stared at the goblin. "I'm doing this because of you!" He shouted to Fabian, wriggling through the sphincter.

"Do not implicate me in this in any way." Fabian demanded.

"You figured it out: we need to go in its ass," Riz insisted, voice muffled as he pulled his torso through. "Fabian and Riz!"  
"The Ball, no, stop," Fabian begged. Until now there was no way to know if this ooze had any kind of sentience. But when Riz began to force himself up its asshole, the eyeless, noseless, earless head turned to look at the intrusion.

"Huuurrrr," it gurgled with what could only be described as a strong sense of shame. For a solid four seconds, Riz writhed deeper past the sphincter, eventually losing one of his dress shoes.

"Don't worry, Fabian, I'll do it for both of us!" Riz's voice was hardly discernable over the squelching of corn.

"Stop implicating me, please," Fabian shouted.

"Nononononono," the ooze moaned, its only distinct words so far. With Riz beyond reach, the corn cuties turned and flew for the next biggest threat to their creator: Fabian. Machaira managed to cut one out of the air before it reached him, but Gorgug's swipe went just over its cob. The cuties split, two diving for Fabian's legs. The half-elf kicked them away, but the other two flew in behind him and seized either arm. Cackling gleefully, they carried him over the ooze. The giant corn monstrosity yawned, lipless mouth slowly stretching into a dark, sticky hole.

Kristen ran forward to help, swung at a corn cutie, and accidentally lost her grip on her weapon. The staff clattered to the ground, and Kristen teetered, almost falling over from her wild swing. Fig shifted a little on the ground, still out cold. The corn gremlins giggled manically and dropped Fabian into the ooze. The ooze smacked the folds of its mouth together in a horrific approximation of chewing. Fabian screamed inside it.

Doreen slowly stood up, wiping blood off her face.

"Eh, eh, haha, third tries the – "

"I'm sorry!" Adaine cut her off, slapping Doreen across the side of the face with her ladle. Doreen's jaw broke. Teeth flew out of her mouth. Doreen dropped unconscious, head slamming into the table as she crumpled to the ground. "Nooo!" Adaine shrieked, arms going up over her head as if to grab her hair before realizing her hands were covered in blood.

"Oh my god," Gorgug exclaimed.

"You have like a bloodlust," Kristen said, edging back. Adaine, shaking in her bloodied prep school uniform, fragment of tooth hanging off her jaw in a glob of blood, stared at the weirdly curved ladle in her hand, and began to hyperventilate. Machaira could see the panic attack setting in and wished she could help, but now was not the time. She could comfort her new (friend, ally?) later. With a howl, Machaira slashed at the ooze, cutting open enough of a gap to see one of Fabian's wide eyes and an arm. Gorgug ran over and brought up his great axe, ripping more congealed corn flesh to reveal more of Fabian's sizzling form.

"Help me," he begged. An industrious squirming near one of the buttholes showed that Riz was having his own problems with escaping.

"Cut me out!" The goblin shouted. "I've got something. Cut me out!" The corn cuties gargled happily as they descended on them. One slashed Kristen across the stomach, finally dispelling the light of Helio. Another struck Gorgug across the throat, and the half-orc dropped, blood gurgling up from his throat. Machaira got an opportunity to cut another one in half on its way to Kristen but snarled furiously as a fourth tore her back open, slicking the floor with blood. They needed to end this soon.

Kristen fumbled with her staff, trying to pick it up, but the staff had fallen in the ooze's trail and was slippery with corn cream. The cleric took a deep breath and attempted to fist the corn ooze's butthole but couldn't muster the strength to push through. The ooze ignored her, melding around the drums of corn. A new pseudopod formed, ponderously raising the barrels over its gaping mouth. Another corn gremlin popped out of a different butthole from the one Riz leapt into.

Fabian forced his way out through the gap with a grunt, arms holding the membrane apart as he tumbled out. He bounced to his feet and ran to Riz's asshole…the asshole Riz was inside and struck a pose, arm cocked back as if for an uppercut. The corn squelched as Fabian forced through the asshole's defenses, arm moving in deep enough that his face pressed into the corn-filled sphincter.

"The faculty," Doreen murmured from the floor. Machaira glanced aside to see Doreen staring at Adaine, sunken aura faded from her eyes. "Don't trust the faculty. You can't…it was one of them. My teeth, I can't feel my teeth." Then came the most disgusting sound of the battle yet: Doreen's tongue poking around her wet gums as she gurgled blood on the floor. Adaine screamed and shook.

"Fuck," Adaine muttered, still caught in the grip of a panic attack. She took a quick breath and focused on the corn monster. A 'friends' spell glowed in her eyes and alighted on the ooze. Machaira was impressed that she could cast anything in the midst of a panic attack. "Hey buddy," Adaine began, shaky voice layered with false cheer. "Why don't we put the corn down? Why don't we put the corn down and let my friends go?" The jiggling mass of corn turned to vomit and fart copiously in Adaine's direction but did not obey. Apparently it didn't have a deep sense of friendship and mutual responsibility to another person.

Machaira took a deep breath, summoning as much energy as she could, and slashed at the corn monster's new pseudopod with a growl. If she could keep it away from the corn drums awhile longer, maybe they could stop it. Her blade cleaved through the limb, sending another wave of corn cascading down. Metal drums clanged against the tile, and for a moment Machaira thought she had succeeded. Then she saw a remaining shred of the creamed corn arm, holding aloft a single barrel. She hadn't cut the entire pseudopod off. A corn cutie shrilly howled and flew for Machaira. She flicked out her saber, nicking its face under the eye, and the gremlin buzzed off. Two more went for Fabian while he fisted their mother.

"Away, away," Fabian scolded, warding them back with his rapier. Another pair of corn cuties lunged for Adaine, each one slashing at an arm. The sleeves of her uniform fell away in tatters, and Adaine yelled more from stress than pain. Kristen tried out a war cry that turned into a mirroring call of Adaine's panic as she missed the corn cutie in front of her. Machaira growled, low and deep in her throat, trying to draw their enemy's focus, but it was too late.

The ooze poured the last barrel of creamed corn into its gullet, gulping and swallowing the entire barrel in two huge bullfrog throat rolls. The ooze swelled in size, the wounds they had worked so hard to make healing. More corn gremlins popped out of its buttholes. In the face of this calamity, lunch lady Doreen's head lolled toward Adaine once again.

"Remember me as I was: a single woman of some years – "

"I killed an old lady with a ladle," Adaine whispered, voice hoarse with horror. She put a hand to her mouth and rocked softly back and forth as Doreen continued, shaking slightly.

"Who made prepared meals for children with a ladle. I asked for nothing, and I didn't choose for this to happen to me. It's your responsibility to make this right because you killed me. You did it, only you, and you didn't have to, you chose to. These were your choices, and you live with them. Remember my face every time you close my eyes." Those were the last words lunch lady Doreen managed to force from her mouth before choking on her own blood and passing from this mortal plane. Machaira knew if she survived this she would have to talk to Adaine.

To Machaira's great surprise, Adaine did not completely break down but instead turned quivering, petrified eyes on a corn cutie. The fear in her gaze was briefly overshadowed in a flash of blue as she cast 'friends' on the cutie. The cutie turned to Adaine, buzzing slightly.

"That guy was talking about you," Adaine told him, managing to sound genuinely outraged as she pointed to another gremlin. "You should attack him. He was saying really bad things about you." The corn cutie gestured several times at the creature to its left and hissed at Adaine. "Yeah him, him! Fuck that guy, right?" The cutie turned its face up and screeched, leaf claws balled into fists. It lunged for its ally, and in seconds they were little more than shredded chaff on the ground. Despite herself, Machaira grinned. No doubt, this was one of the coolest girls she'd ever met. Too bad they would both probably be killed by corn.

Fabian bellowed and finally ripped Riz from the ooze's anus. Riz tumbled to the ground, a slimy piece of paper fluttering next to him. As the corn gremlins gathered, turning on Riz and the paper, Machaira and Fabian struck. Two cuties withered with surprised wails while their attention was on the goblin that molested their mother. Two more gremlins swiped at Riz, but the nimble rogue danced aside, a little less graceful now that he was slicked with corn. Another swiped at Machaira, and she leaned aside so the cutie merely scraped against her jacket. Fabian, staggering in the slew of corn that was jettisoned when Riz escaped, was not so fortunate and fell to a deep gash from shoulder to hip across his chest.

Kristen stared at the paper, frowning, before horror and dismay filled her features. Her body trembled, skin paling as she held out her hand. Light filled the room, and Kristen's staff flew into her hand, glowing with holy energy. Kristen brought her staff down onto the sheet of paper, stuck the floor completely flat with the butt of the staff, stumbled at her own force of impact, slipped in the corn residue, fell, and banged her head on the ground. Kristen muttered something about popcorn and slipped into unconsciousness, her staff still alight with the power of Helio. Machaira was almost killed by the corn monsters trying to process how quickly the situation went from really good to truly awful.

The ooze turned and lurched forward, swinging a pseudopod at Riz that only barely missed, splattering hot creamed corn over the walls and downed teammates. Adaine started and summoned the piece of paper to her hand. She blinked, terror slowing her thought process as the corn cuties swarmed toward her. Machaira leapt to action, blood loss chilling her limbs. She snarled, pouring her fury at the death and destruction around her into the strike, decapitating the lead cutie and scattering the rest before stumbling on the ooze's cream trail, breath rasping from her throat. From the floor, Gorgug gave a final rattle and quieted. Machaira could hear his heart stop, and the smell death intensified in her nostrils.

Riz slipped away from the corn cuties, running at the first table with his gun drawn. "Adaine, hold up the paper!" Adaine hurriedly stretched the sheet wide, holding it out and to the side. _Booo-phht_! The air poofed and paper fluttered, disappearing into shadowy wisps that faded in turn. The ooze groaned, farted, and dissolved into nothing. With a burst of light the corn cuties popped their kernels and vanished, leaving only a number of unnaturally large cobs behind.

Machaira did not stop to celebrate, only tapping her bracelet as a silent offering of her struggle to Bast. She stumbled on bloody legs toward Fabian, passing the motionless form of Gorgug. There was nothing she could do for the sweet half-orc. She sunk onto her knees and began to rip off strips of his shirt, binding his wounds shut. Riz said something to Kristen's unconscious form, but Machaira was starting to have trouble hearing over the sound of her own pulse in her ear fur. Machaira's breath rasped harshly in her throat, head swimming with the smell of blood and death, far too familiar for her. Images swam in the back of her tired mind of past battles and dead bodies. Machaira forced herself to take a deep breath. The past did not dictate the present. The images faded, a part of her she had not chosen but accepted. Her hands did not falter as she bandaged Fabian. Live for the living.

"Everybody's dead!" Adaine screamed. Machaira turned to look at the elf, who was, though still panicking, not hysterical. Her eyes glowed with blue spell energy, voice reverberating as she sent a magical message. "Help us everybody's dead." She repeated. Pause. "Everybody's fucking dead! Get in the cafeteria right now!" She yelled, voice shrill with anger. Mr. Gibbons promptly opened the door and looked about the carnage. Riz had managed to slow Kristen's bleeding, but her wounds were deep. As a cleric, Kristen didn't have the same physical tenacity to resist shock and pain Fabian did, limiting her body's ability to stay stable.

"Wow." Mr. Gibbons said vapidly. "This looks like a lot. This looks like a whole lot."

"There are dead people in here!" Adaine screamed at him, panic temporarily forgotten in anger. "Do something or get someone in here who can do something!"

"Okay." He agreed mildly. "If that's what you want."

"Right. FUCKING. Now!" Adaine's whole body shook as she pointed at the floor for emphasis. Mr. Gibbons sprinted away. Machaira stared at Adaine, covered in blood, fragment of tooth stuck to her chin, sleeves torn from her uniform, and took a moment to appreciate the elf's grisly beauty in that moment. It was the look of a fighter who had given her all and survived.

"I think she's starting to stabilize," Riz called, sprinting after Mr. Gibbons. "Take over for me. I'm going to find a priest or a cleric or someone." Machaira heaved herself up. Her left leg didn't want to support her weight. She told her left leg to go fuck itself and do it anyway. Machaira slunk to Kristen's side and sank down onto the tiles, back echoing with aches and hot stings from her cut. Already the makeshift bandages Riz had made were soaked through. She began to cut away the bottom of Kristen's shirt and shorts for bandages.

"Can you save her?" Adaine asked.

"I can try," Machaira responded. "But I have no real supplies or magical abilities." Machaira tilted Kristen's head up gently, feeling the wetness soaking her hair. "I can stem the blood flow," she continued, holding a strip of fabric to the wound and tying it around the front of her head. She could almost pretend the piece of tie-dyed shirt was just a jaunty bandana. "But her head wound is largely internal."

"But we, we can't do anything then," Adaine stammered. Machaira made a fresh bandage and applied pressure to Kristen's stomach wound as she looked up at Adaine.

"No, we can only be there for each other and do our best to support our friends when they need us." Machaira didn't know why she was calling these people her friends; they had just met. But after the chaos of the battle, calling them strangers felt wrong. "It's not much, but there are times when it can mean the world."

Machaira looked back at Kristen. She knew Adaine wasn't convinced. She'd have to talk to the elf later and make sure Adaine was okay too. She didn't expect Adaine would want much to do with her after that. Machaira pushed down the disappointment that she wasn't going to get to befriend this awesome girl who could fight through a panic attack. She hadn't expected to make many friends anyway.

The doors swung open. Riz and principle Aguefort rushed forward. Aguefort raised a hand toward Kristen. But it was too late. Machaira could feel the pulse of blood slow and stop under her hand and smell death on the warm body. The bandages hadn't helped. Her head wound had been too severe. Machaira slowly removed her hand from the soaked scrap of cloth and stood, admitting defeat. Aguefort slowly walked closer, Mr. Gibbons slightly behind and to the right of him. Fabian and Fig were unconscious. Gorgug and Kristen were dead. Machaira and Adaine were covered in blood. Riz was covered in corn. Aguefort sighed through his nose.

"Death is a part of life, eternal and unforgiving." He began. "It exists around us in all places, for energy can neither be created nor destroyed."

"Can you fucking do something or not?" Riz asked.

"Death is an old friend. It's a glass of – "

"Are there clerics or priests or anybody here?" Riz hollered.

"It's a spoon when all you need is a knife." Aguefort ignored the goblin. "Death waits for us all, with the exception of some immortal beings such as gods and vampires and some forms of undead. Um, but death waits for many of us. Maybe not elves, elves are immortal if they live in their homeland." Riz turned and started to run for the door, yelling for someone else. "However," Aguefort said a little louder, causing Riz to pause and look back. "There are times when great magic can work wonders."

"You motherfucker," Riz exclaimed. Aguefort reached into his coat pocket with his left hand and revealed a swirling ball of fire orbited by little red feathers, nestling comfortably in his palm.

"The egg of the last phoenix," Aguefort explained. "However, death will exact its price. There's foul play in this school. Only you can save us. A life for a life, eh, Mr. Gibbons?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Mr. Gibbons asked. Principle Aguefort reached into his coat with his right hand, pulled out a gun, and shot Mr. Gibbons in the head. Machaira's jaw dropped open. Adaine covered her mouth with her hand and wheezed.

"Hoooooooooo," Riz exclaimed, eyes wide as he leaned back from the now dead guidance counselor.

"The price must be paid." With that, Aguefort pressed the barrel against his chin and shot himself in the head. _BLAM_! The egg dissipated, surrounding the teens with fire and flame, magical energy given light and shape. Machaira felt her wounds closing, could see Adaine and Riz's cuts heal. As the energy began to fade away, Fig and Fabian sat up, blinking around in confusion. Kristen and Gorgug rose with gasps, uncomprehending as the last of the magical fire dissolved away.

"What the FUCK?!"


	3. Rise of the Dead Teens - Part 1: Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a slow burn story, I assure you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Fantasy High is fantastic, the players often skated over more emotionally intense aspects of their characters' lives in favor of comedy and brevity. While this worked for the show, I want to go a little more in depth, so a lot of single episodes will be broken into multiple chapters. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 3: Rise of the Dead Teens – Part 1: Aftermath**

Gorgug immediately began to sob. Fabian was completely covered in boiling, steaming corn. Riz was covered in lukewarm corn and the body parts of partially formed corn cuties, arquebus still smoking in his hand.

"Daddy," Fig whispered, blood streaming down her nose as tuna surprise continued to sizzle against her face. Kristen's eyes were wide, staring around like she didn't quite understand what was going on. Machaira's jacket and jeans were ripped, her clothes and fur stained a dark red from the wounds that just healed. Adaine stood, shivering, sleeveless, covered in Doreen's blood, bent ladle still in hand, a chunk of tooth and gore hanging off her jawline. She was so far past a panic attack it was a miracle that she hadn't dropped yet.

"What is going on?" Fig asked. "Where is Doreen? She'll save us all. Where is Doreen?" Adaine wasn't sure when it had happened, but Fig had become very close to the lunch lady. The lunch lady she had just killed. _Oh my god, no, this can't be real, no no no, _Adaine thought. She began to hyperventilate.

"I died," Gorgug cried out, face screwed up with fear. Fabian stuttered.

"Yeah, let's get Doreen," Kristen said. "I mean, she was hurt pretty bad, right?"

"It was a murder – suicide situation," Riz began to explain.

"I died!" Gorgug cried again.

"Doreen is dead." Riz informed the other girls.

"What?" Fig asked.

"You died." Riz confirmed to Gorgug.

"Where's Doreen?" Fig demanded.

"You died, and you also died." Fabian pointed to Gorgug and Kristen.

"I know." Kristen replied. "I met god."

"They came in and they had a sort of rising phoenix situation with some sort of egg that came open, and yeah." Riz continued, trying to keep everyone on track. "The big guy shot the little guy. Shot himself dead. Brought you guys back."

"That's so cool," Fig gushed. "I'm so pissed I missed it." Adaine stared at her in disbelief. Was that really what Fig was concerned about right now? Where did that concern for Doreen go? Oh god. Doreen…

"Mr. Gibbons?" Gorgug asked fearfully.

"I killed Doreen, but I didn't mean to," Adaine tried to explain, voice rising as the situation crashed back over her. "She was attacking me, and then she came back to herself right at the end and gave a really, really intense speech about how it's my fault and I'm gonna be haunted by her for the rest of my life!" Adaine was nearly sobbing, overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation.

"Oh, I did hear some of that," Kristen said.

"You did what you had to do," Machaira said firmly. Out of everyone, she seemed the least disturbed. The tabaxi was shorter than Adaine, but she exuded a sense of power and authority. Her golden eyes were hard to meet, but Adaine could see empathy there. "Doreen was possessed by the same page that made the corn monsters. She was going to kill you, the rest of us, and god knows who else. You were put in a lose/lose situation with no good way out, and you chose to save yourself and the rest of us."

"I killed her," Adaine repeated. Those eyes, so unlike any humanoid Adaine had ever met, held her transfixed.

"Yes, you did. And that isn't a trivial thing. But you also saved everyone else in this room and possibly more besides. We were unprepared, outnumbered, and badly outclassed. You made a hard decision in a difficult situation, and you were exceedingly brave." Machaira walked over and gripped her shoulder tightly. "I'm proud to have fought with you. We might all be dead without you."

Adaine's breath came in short, painful gulps. Her family never said they were proud of her. She'd never been brave. She was never good enough. Adaine was always scared, terrified of being overwhelmed by the world around her. This had been the worst day of her life by far. And here this little tabaxi stood, staring her dead in the eye, and saying she was proud of her, that she had made a difference. Adaine stared back wildly, unable to fully process the storm of emotion rolling about her head.

"Doreen also said something about how the faculty was in on this somehow." Riz steered them back to the greater mystery.

"Yes!" Adaine exclaimed, relieved to have something else to focus on. Machaira let go of her shoulder and took a step back, scarred muzzle swinging to look at Riz as the goblin continued.

"So, we got to talk to the cops before another teacher sees, because if another teacher sees this, they might be in on this. And they might put this on us."

"We need to hide, I think," Kristen said. "And get cleaned up."

"You guys," Fig tried to cut in.

"Whoa, I don't know if we should hide," Riz cautioned.

"You guys," Fig repeated. "This is exactly what teenagers have suspected all along! Adults are the bad ones."

"Yeah," Adaine agreed. "We can't go to the cops. What if the cops are in on it as well?" Privately, she really did not want to get dragged into holding for murder and listen to the inevitable backlash from her parents.

"We can't exactly hide what went down here," Machaira pointed out. "Eventually someone will put at least part of this together. We just have to choose who gets here first." Adaine hated that logic.

"The cops are not in on it," Riz insisted. "My mom's a cop, and she's cool."

"Your mom's a cop?" Adaine pointed at Riz with the ladle. WHY was she still holding it? The hope that she could get away without the police finding out fizzled.

"Yeah, how old is she?" Fig challenged. "Is she nineteen or under?" Riz gave her a confused look.

"No."

"Then I don't trust her." Fig waved her index finger for emphasis. Adaine privately decided there was no hope of a sound plan coming from the tiefling.

"Okay, let's take a look at this," Riz said, casting about the room. Adaine and the others glanced around with him, taking stock. Everything that might have explained the situation had largely vanished. The bodies of three faculty members, piles of creamed corn, several freakishly large naked corn cobs, and a bunch of knocked over corn drums remained; but none of that would help prove the bizarre fight that had occurred here. The cobs and creamed corn were no longer animated. No phoenix egg, no shadowy page of evil. Just Arthur Aguefort's gun – not even a magical arquebus like Riz's gun, a plain revolver – to further the bad situation.

"Can I take the gun?" Fig asked with a manic smile, moving toward the weapon. Machaira held her back with one arm.

"No, don't touch the gun," Riz warned.

"Nobody touch anything, alright?" Fabian said.

"Don't touch anything," Riz agreed. For two people so different from one another, the boys sure seemed to agree on a lot.

"I'm just saying it's so rock N' roll to have a gun," Fig countered, still grinning ear to ear.

"Don't touch the gun!" Riz repeated. "I have a gun. I'll let you hold my gun later. Please don't touch this."

"I saw Mr. Gibbons," Gorgug interrupted. He sounded almost as freaked out as Adaine. Everyone stared at him.

"I saw..." Kristen began. "I think I smuggled Mr. Aguefort into heaven."

"Oh my god," Riz put his face in his hands. Now that they were being quiet again, the situation washed over Adaine fresh.

"My fingerprints are all over this murder weapon!" She realized, chest constricting.

"Obviously, I'm pro-coyote, so I was happy to smuggle…" She tapered off as she met Adaine's angry, disbelieving eyes. Elves were raised to take the gods with a pinch of salt. Since they lived for so long, the elves knew the gods weren't what they pretended to be. She didn't exactly fault others for their worship, but Kristen needed to focus on the situation in this room and not the one in another plane of existence. Fabian crossed his arms and Machaira snorted, as if they too were nearing the end of their patience with the cleric's insistence on not discussing the massacre around them. "Yeah, I met god, and it was really disappointing." Kristen continued anyway.

"I think I went to hell," Gorgug countered. "Or just whatever we want to call that."

"Mr. Gibbons went to hell?" Kristen asked. Gorgug nodded and looked at his palm.

"Yeah, and he became, he was sort of turning into, like, I cut, well it's fine now, but I cut my hand, and I could see, and Mr. Gibbons was like a…" Gorgug held his arms up with his hands held palms down like claws. "He said he had unfinished business and then he became like a demon." Adaine couldn't help but feel a wave of pity for the sweet berserker. Elves still acknowledged the afterlife, and it sounded like Gorgug had been traumatized.

"Wait, uh, demons are a cool thing, right?" Fig asked, spreading her hands and staring at Gorgug with a smile like she couldn't believe he would say otherwise. Adaine managed not to lose her head and scream at the bard.

"Wait, everyone, what do we have" Fabian cut in, waving his arms about. He seemed to have finally hit the end of his patience. "I am not going to stand here over these two men's dead bodies, alright? I'm going to get that dragon man, alright?" Riz tried to protest, but Fabian shouted over him. "He, ah, he, ah, ah, ah, he seems fine."

"Well what if he's – what if he's in on it?" Kristen stammered back. Riz echoed her.

"We can't trust any adults," Fig insisted. Oh god, adults…Adaine could feel a mental dam in her mind crack.

"The only one we could trust was Doreen," Kristen agreed.

"Why?" Machaira asked. "Because she was cool or because she was possessed?"

"My parents are gonna kill me." Adaine finally admitted. That, more than anything, was what she was afraid of. Whatever they decided, she would not be able to hide this from them. The mental dam began to break.

"Speaking of which," Fig used the statement to piggyback into an unrelated topic. "I need to remember Doreen the way I know she would want to be remembered."

"Nobody fucking cares, alright!" Fabian shouted, flailing his arms about. Fig ignored him, walked over to Doreen's cooling corpse, removed her hair net, and began to fashion them into a single fishnet legging.

"Doreen, I'll never forget you," Fig promised. Machaira shuddered.

"She's been dead for less than twenty minutes, and you knew her for an afternoon," Machaira said.

"You gotta not touch the body!" Riz nearly sobbed.

"It's not a bit of fun, okay?" Gorgug agreed, stepping back from Fig.

"She burned your face," Fabian reminded her.

"This feels like it's less about Doreen and more about you." Machaira commented. Fig ignored them.

"Are we all just going to stand here watching her sew?" Fabian asked. The question was answered when Fig put her heel up on the table and showed off her new single legging with a flourish.

"They look really good," Kristen told her. "You did a great job."

"Scary good," Machaira admitted, ears back and lips curling as she edged away.

"Honestly, agree," Fabian admitted. "They look fantastic, but that is not important right now!" Fig smiled and turned about a bit to show off. Adaine didn't want to admit she agreed with Fabian, but he was right. They had more important problems. Like how her parents were going to kill her. Oh god, the look on Aelwyn's face when she found out…

"If not, if we don't go to his mom, where do we…" Gorgug began.

"I know one adult," Fig ventured.

"Wait, just…let's take a look at this place again," Riz said. "See if there's anything that proves what happened." Riz looked about the room and blew out a shaky breath. "Ok, these two can be traced back to principle Aguefort's gun, and the principle's wound is definitely self-administered. Also…" Riz peered into the kitchen. "I think I see where the corn ooze came from." Adaine followed his line of sight to a lone corn barrel in the kitchen lying on its side, creamed corn spilled out onto the floor. "I…I think that's the barrel Doreen was serving lunch out of today."

Adaine frowned at the barrel in question. If that was true, then traces of whatever magic had caused this should remain. Adaine willed a detect magic spell to activate. Her eyes glowed blue with a whoosh of magical power swirling about her form. Machaira stared at her, eyes wide with some emotion Adaine couldn't identify. Pushing her teammates from her mind, Adaine focused on the barrel.

The first thing she detected was a mage hand spell originating from a young elven caster. This was the barrel she had lifted Kristen's book out of at lunch earlier. _Fuck, I'm in so much trouble_ Adaine thought in yet another moment of panic. This entire fucking day had been one long series of heart palpitations. However, looking further, Adaine realized that only an idiot wouldn't be able to detect insane levels of shadow and infernal magic. But those dark magic residues would fade over the next hour or two. Adaine relayed this to the group, much to Kristen's consternation.

"So, it might have been a cursed thing of corn, and that jerk threw my bible into it and that aggravated it?" Kristen guessed.

"Or maybe there was something in your bible that aggravated it first?" Adaine guessed. "Or maybe the jock threw something in?"

"Your bible has all this stuff about corn," Gorgug said, frowning at Kristen.

"This could have all been a trap for Kristen that the rest of us got caught up in," Machaira supplied.

"True," Kristen admitted. For a moment, no one spoke.

"I think we should set your bible on fire," Fig proposed.

"I think we should get a teacher very quickly," Adaine countered.

"I think we should call my mom," Riz argued. "I don't think we should get a teacher."

"I am with this one," Fabian said, pointing at Adaine. "I am going to go get a teacher."

"Why would you go get a teacher?" Fig questioned. "She said that the faculty – "

"I'm going to get a teacher, alright?" Fabian shouted down. Riz and Fig tried to argue. "NO!" Everyone started talking at once. Machaira flattened her ears and hunched her shoulders, looking about as comfortable as Adaine felt

"I think we should put it to a vote," Riz said.

"We need someone – " Fig began.

"We need someone who is cool, not a teacher, not affiliated with this school," Kristen spoke over her, ticking each point off her fingers.

"My mom is cool," Riz insisted yet again.

"I have an in with an adult." Fig reminded them. Maybe if they let each other speak, they could have come to a decision already. But Adaine had stopped caring who they told as long as someone came and saw that her spell wasn't to blame.

"We only have an hour!" She almost shrieked, throwing her hands up.

"I have an in with an adult I think I can manipulate," Fig said for a third time.

"Who?" Kristen asked. Riz was practically beside himself with frustration that no one was listening to him.

"Vice Principle Goldenhoard."

"You have no in with him," Machaira snarled. "He just doesn't like you! Making someone uncomfortable is NOT helpful right now."

"Fantastic," Fabian said, ignoring the tabaxi. "Let's go get him."

"Let's just," Gorgug began awkwardly. Adaine grabbed the sides of her head, desperate to keep control of herself. "I really don't think we're gonna agree."

"Why don't we just call the cops?" Riz insisted.

"No!" Fabian shot back, whirling on the goblin.

"We only have an hour," Adaine reiterated, well and truly shrieking now. "We don't have time!"

"We do only have an hour," Kristen turned to Riz. "All right, I'm with the cop mamma here."

"We could also call both, try to play it from each side," Machaira suggested, tail twitching like the second hand of a clock.

"Let's just go home and talk about it tomorrow," Gorgug suggested. "Pretend like nothing happened?" Adaine stared at him in utter disbelief.

"No!" Fig shouted.

"No," Kristen agreed. "We need to be more proactive than that."

"This is the worst idea." Riz pointed at Gorgug.

"I've heard some bad ideas, and I'll agree." Fabian said.

"That is a very bad idea." Machaira confirmed.

"Yes." Adaine rounded out the group.

"Oh man," Gorgug sighed, drawing in on himself.

"Wait, can we study any of this stuff ourselves?" Kristen asked.

"We have and probably still will," Machaira answered. "But someone needs to know about this now."

"I mean, we've figured out everything," Fabian protested.

"I think that we should get the vice principle," Adaine confirmed. "Guys there are – I don't think it's him. I don't think he's a bad guy." Goldenhoard had given her detention, but she had deserved it. He had also seemed at least sympathetic to her panic attack. _He wasn't the only one_, her mind supplied with a glance at the tabaxi. But surely he couldn't have done something this evil?

"There are girls disappearing from this school," Riz informed them. "My mom has been investigating it."

"But not very well," Kristen shot back, switching sides seemingly at random. "You guys haven't solved a thing about those disappearances."

"If the problem was simple they wouldn't need detectives to solve it," Machaira rebuked. "And that case is not relevant here. The one thing we need to do is pick who finds out first because the police and teachers both have to know about this in the next hour."

"Let's vote," Gorgug suggested.

"Fine." Fabian agreed.

"Let's vote," Fig took credit for the idea. "I vote that we go somewhere else to talk about this so that we're away from the crime scene." Oh god no, they couldn't drag this out any longer

"We don't have time!" Adaine screamed. _She_ didn't have the time. "We have an hour before all of these spells will disappear!"

"I switch teams to the vice principle idea." Kristen raised her hand.

"Same." Machaira said. "If we jump straight to the police then whoever did this might know we're onto them."

"Vice principle," Adaine and Fabian echoed. Oh god, did she really have to agree with Fabian?

"Your mom," Gorgug said, pointing at Riz.

"Vice principle," Fig voted.

"This is no time for your mama jokes," Kristen said to Gorgug. Fabian turned and strode out of the cafeteria, Fig right behind him. Riz flung up his hands and slunk into a corner to sulk. Kristen sat on a corner table, brushing off her bible and flipping through its pages as if searching for something demonic she had missed before. Gorgug sat with his back against the opposite wall from them, staring at his knees. Adaine shivered in the cold AC, the congealed blood on her face sapping heat from her body. Goosebumps rose on her bare arms as she avoided staring at the woman she had murdered. Oh god, no, don't think about that. The soft tread of boots alerted her to Machaira's approach a moment before she spoke.

"Was this your first kill?" She asked. Adaine's gaze flickered up to Machaira's. The tabaxi's eyes were so unlike any other humanoid's that Adaine had seen. The closest she could think of was a lizardfolk that had cursed out her family from the other side of the street. That man had had cold, dull yellow eyes with no whites and emotionless slit pupils. Adaine had shrunk closer to her family, much to the derision of her sister. But when she managed to meet Machaira's eyes, she realized the similarities were superficial at best. Machaira's bright golden orbs spoke volumes. Her feline expression was both so foreign and so obviously warm with compassion that Adaine found herself transfixed. Hesitantly, Adaine nodded. Machaira pursed her lips, whiskers rotating forward.

"I'm not going to pretend that it ever gets easier," she said, holding eye contact. "This isn't something you ever really forget, and you shouldn't. But if you take it all in now…" Machaira gestured to Doreen's body as she spoke. Adaine didn't want to hear this, didn't want to look at Doreen, but she found herself doing it anyway. "If you…accept what happened, what you did, then this moment won't control you. You'll be able to live your life without it hanging over you."

"I killed her though," Adaine whispered. She didn't know how to convey what that knowledge did to her, but when she turned back to Machaira she found deep wells of empathy.

"You killed a possessed woman who was trying to kill you," Machaira confirmed. "Doreen didn't ask for this to happen to her. There was no way to come out of this without blood. We lost two people in the battle as it is. We almost lost everyone. If you hadn't killed her, that corn ooze could have grown even stronger. This room, the seven of us, was not the endgame, just an unexpected hurdle." Machaira put a hand on Adaine's back, just behind her shoulder. Adaine realized that she was several inches taller than the other girl, but she felt so much smaller. Machaira's touch was gentle, comforting without being confining.

"You went into a terrible situation, and you made a difficult choice. Only you can say if that was the right choice. But I'm proud to have fought alongside you. You're a very brave young woman, Adaine Abernant. Never, ever let anyone tell you otherwise." Machaira voice was soft but absolutely certain.

As Adaine stared at her, she realized just how genuine her ally was. The pride in her eyes was real. This ferocious cat person, who had carved her way through corn monsters with almost no regard for her own injuries, respected her. Adaine felt repressed tears from this terrible day, tears she could never shed at home with her family, tumble out. She leaned toward Machaira, and the tabaxi held her gently. Adaine lowered her head to Machaira's shoulder and let the confusion and distress run through her for a count of thirty before she pulled away, breathing deeply but evenly to take control of her emotions. Machaira did nothing to stop her from moving away. Looking at Machaira, Adaine realized what the empathy in this person meant.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Adaine asked.

"Yes." Machaira's reply was firm. Her gaze did not waver from Adaine's. "More than I care to admit. It haunts me sometimes. But in the end, I've accepted my choices. I did the best I could with what I had available in the moment. Ultimately, life is for the living. I can't let these moments, no matter how painful, keep me from living. And neither should you." Her hand found its way back to Adaine's shoulder.

"Take it all in." She advised again. "Accept it as part of you. Then move on. If you ever need to talk or anything, just ask, ok?" Adaine nodded. Machaira squeezed her shoulder again. "I, uh, understand if you don't want to see me or the rest of us after this. But, whatever you decide, I'm really glad I met you. You're a strong person." Adaine stared at her, surprised. No one had called her strong before. She thought Machaira must have just been trying to be supportive, but those eyes were so earnest she couldn't help but believe her friend had meant it.

"I'm going to go talk to Gorgug, ok?" Machaira said, talking a step back. "If you, um, want to, you know, talk, or something…" Machaira's tail swished behind her, and the tabaxi finally looked away, shoulders hunching.

"Yeah, ok," Adaine heard herself say. "Thanks, Machaira. I uh, appreciate that. I really do. I just, maybe, need a moment, ok? To not…"

"Right," Machaira agreed. "Totally." She turned and walked over to Gorgug. Adaine turned back to face Doreen's body, bile rising in her throat. She could still feel the bit of gore on her chin. The ladle trembled in her hand. _Why_ was she still holding it? Adaine could hear the soft, rhythmic voice of Machaira behind her, Gorgug sobbing as the other girl consoled him. _Take it in; accept it_ Machaira's voice echoed in her head. Adaine stared at Doreen, remembering the lunch lady's last words to her: _These were your choices, and you live with them. Remember my face every time you close my eyes_. Adaine shivered, panic rising up within her.

_Life is for the living,_ Machaira's voice countered. Adaine had thought that herself but never in this way. That phrase had always been her rebuttal when humans or other short-lived races confronted her for not worshipping a god. Elves lived long enough to see the limitations of the gods for what they were. While Adaine valued her soul, her life would not be spent bending over backward to please some entity that offered her nothing until death. But the way Machaira said it, the phrase took on another meaning. Would Adaine really let the last words of a dead woman control her? Wasn't that worse than wasting her life struggling to please a fickle god?

For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different path, where she didn't kill Doreen, where she tried using a cantrip or spell to disable her. But try as she might, Adaine knew she didn't have the means to truly stop Doreen. This had been her only option to protect herself and the others. Adaine glanced over her shoulder to where Gorgug was crying, furious, ugly crying, onto Machaira's shoulder. The much smaller girl had bent her body upward at an uncomfortable-looking angle to embrace Gorgug while still kneeling. She was murmuring gentle things in Gorgug's ears, rubbing his back in circles with one hand. Adaine couldn't hear what she was saying, but Machaira's voice was as soft with Gorgug as it had been with her. The tabaxi looked over at her, asking a silent question. Adaine shook her head no and smiled at her. Machaira smiled back, lips turning up at the corner without showing teeth – well, her other teeth – and returned her focus to the half-orc.

Earlier, when Machaira had told her that sometimes the most they could do was simply be there, Adaine had thought she was stupid. What good was being there if you couldn't actually solve the problem? It seemed especially dumb since Machaira HAD known what to do, even if it hadn't helped much. But now, Adaine decided that maybe it wasn't so stupid. Some problems you had to solve on your own, but it was so much less scary when you had someone else to support you. Adaine wondered bitterly if other kids learned that from their parents.

Adaine took a deep breath and looked back at Doreen's body. This woman's blood was on her hands. It always would be. _I did kill you, Doreen. I did, only me, and I didn't have to, I chose to. That was my choice, and I will live with it. But life is for the living. I hope you find your afterlife. I'm going to live my own life, for myself, and maybe for my new friends too_.

Adaine took a deep breath. She knew that her problem wasn't over, that this wouldn't just go away. The terror, the overwhelming implications of what she had done, still clutched at her brain. But it was now possible to see a way forward where this event did not define her. It also felt weird to refer to these people as her friends after less than an hour spent together. But it felt so fundamentally wrong to call them strangers after this crazy afternoon. Privately, she acknowledged that she would be spending a lot more time with these six, whether she wanted to or not.

The doors swung open. Fabian and Fig reentered the cafeteria, Goldenhoard following them with that pompous stride teachers reserved for intimidating students. The dragonborn walked about halfway down the center aisle before noticing the corpses. For a moment, he stared, motionless. Then he gagged, fire crackling in his mouth. Goldenhoard swallowed forcefully.

"Oh, oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no." Adaine sympathized with his reaction but wished the disciplinarian could project more confidence. "Alright. What happened? What happened? Are we in danger? Is whoever did this still lose?"

"We don't know what happened," Adaine told him, gesticulating with her hands. "But there was a scream and then the lunch lady went crazy, and there was something in her eyes that was demonic in some way. She was possessed, I think."

"It all started with one barrel of creamed corn." Kristen took up the narrative.

"Yes, and it's right here!" Adaine pointed, hoping to keep the bewildered VP on track.

"There's runes in the corn barrel, and some monster came out of it and possessed the lunch lady, who attacked us along with the monster." Riz offered.

"And we both died," Kristen pointed to Gorgug and herself. "And then Arthur killed…"

"He was the last phoenix?" Fabian tried.

"The rising phoenix," Riz amended. "He had a phoenix egg."

"The what?" Goldenhoard asked, hand going to his head. "He had a phoenix egg?"

"He had a phoenix egg," Riz confirmed. "And then he shot – "

"There's only one – phoenixes famously don't lay eggs. They die, turn into ash, and that's like the number one thing about phoenixes!"

"I don't fucking know what you want us to tell you!" Fabian yelled, spreading his arms. "Alright, we just told you – "

"I'm scrambling to figure it out! This is, ur, hur, er – "

"Well they were dead," Riz tried to explain to the stammering VP. "They were killed by – "

"We died." Gorgug helpfully clarified. He and Machaira had separated, but his eyes were still red, making him look somehow scarier.

"We died." Kristen confirmed. Dear god, could they just let someone else speak without repeating everything? Adaine despaired at leaving this school anytime soon.

"You two students died?" Goldenhoard stared between them.

"I got Arthur into heaven." Kristen elaborated.

"What?"

"Vice principle," Machaira spoke up. "The important thing here is the corn barrel, ok? There's all this evil magic on it that someone has to see before it fades."

"I got Arthur into heaven." Kristen was very focused on that fact.

"Hey man," Fig began, pulling out a flask. "You're kinda freaking out, so maybe do you want – "

"I am not." Goldenhoard asserted, finally regaining his composure. "I'm a disciplinarian. You obviously have been through something traumatic. We are going to get Mr. Gibbons. He's going to – "

"Mr. Gibbons is dead." Adaine told him.

"Why?" The question was half snarl and half exasperated moan. "What happened?" Goldenhoard looked down and finally noticed the gnome's body almost directly at his feet, so small he had missed it in the space between tables. "OH NO!"

"Arthur shot him, and then Arthur shot himself to save us," Kristen explained, gesturing between herself and Gorgug.

"Principle Aguefort shot the guidance counselor in the head?"

"None of us saw it coming either," Machaira consoled him.

"Yeah, and then he shot himself." Adaine realized that she was repeating what everyone else had said not a minute after wishing everyone would stop repeating each other. God, this group was disorganized.

"And then I think Mr. Gibbons became a monster," Gorgug chimed in, clearly still scared.

"You don't need to tell him about the – "

"I have to be clear," Gorgug shouted back. Fabian grabbed Riz's arm and pulled him aside.

"Riz, I'm sorry, I think I did this wrong. You should go get your mom."

"Yes!" Riz exclaimed "He's just gonna be a middle man."

"Yeah, this is bad."

"Okay, okay," Goldenhoard said, turning to look at the boys. "Well, listen. There is a protocol for these things. We are going to call the police."

"Hooray!" Kristen shouted.

"No," Fig protested.

"Let us call the police," Goldenhoard asserted.

"Thank you," Riz sighed. "Yes."

"You," Goldenhoard gestured to the seven of them. "All of you…" Goldenhoard stomped to the doors, stuck his head through, and took a breath to call out.

"Don't call just any police," Fig yelped. Goldenhoard pulled back to look at her.

"What do you mean don't call any – I don't have their individual numbers."

"We have his mom's number," Kristen said, pointing at Riz.

"We could have called my mom." Riz reminded them, placing a hand to his chest with a superior stare about the room.

"Oh, don't be spiteful," Fig chided.

"Yeah, please don't be spiteful," Fabian snapped in the most ironic exchange of the night.

"Look, spite ball," Machaira addressed Riz. "If we didn't go to a teacher first, whoever was on the inside would know we were on to them."

"Yeah, please don't be spiteful right now," Kristen implored.

"Well, it feels like you shouldn't be spiteful," Gorgug interpreted.

"Could everybody stop yelling!" Adaine shouted, starting to feel overwhelmed.

"I still feel like you should – " Riz began.

"That's enough from everyone!" Goldenhoard roared, crossing his arms and flinging them to either side to indicate the whole room. Adaine flinched. "This. Is. A. Tragedy." Goldenhoard held his hands in what might have been a soothing gesture. He stuck his head out into the hallway. "I need some faculty in here for these children!"

"No!" The seven of them yelled at once. Goldenhoard started and stared at them.

"So the lunch lady, while she was trying to kill us, as she died she said that somebody on the faculty was involved." Riz explained.

"Involved with…" Goldenhoard shook himself, held up his hands, and began pointing around at them. "This is enough. All of you, come with me right now! You, the seven of you, come with me right now! You come here!" Goldenhoard turned and strode down the hallway, leaving little choice but to follow him. As they entered the hallway, two faculty members approached. One was an earth genasi, a hulking elemental humanoid composed of rocks with a smooth finish that almost let him pass for human. He held a warhammer bigger than Adaine's entire body over his shoulder. The other was a delicate half-elf with magenta pants, a long purple coat, dull pink scarf, and fluffed blond hair. Maybe a sorcerer? Adaine wasn't sure.

"Very well," Goldenhoard said to the teachers. "Porter, Jayce, you will stay in there. Make sure no students go in."

"Yeah, it's alright. I'll make sure no students go in." The genasi promised, tiny ponytail swinging as he nodded.

"Okay, is there a problem?" The half-elf asked, gesticulating with his wand as he spoke. "Is something kind of going on that doesn't…" The half-elf, Jayce, noticed the bodies in the cafeteria, and gasped. "Oh my god!" He almost trembled with apprehension as he rushed in, scarf swishing around his neck. Yep, definitely a sorcerer. Porter looked into the room and grunted, seemingly unsurprised, before jogging after his colleague.

"You, with me, right now!" Goldenhoard ordered the group, continuing into an empty classroom. Right, school had let out. Her parents already knew she had messed up because she was late. Fuck. They filed in, Goldenhoard only entering once everyone else was inside. The VP closed the door behind him and sighed.

"Alright, Alright. Mr. Gibbons is dead. Listen," the dragonborn softened his tone. "Are you alright? You did the right thing by, well, in the future, feel free to call the police, but you did the right thing by going and finding an adult. Did you defeat the monster? Is that why you died? You died in combat?"

"Yes, all of us did," Fig kept a blank, wide eyed expression. "We were all alive the whole time, and we all contributed to the battle." Machaira coughed, shaking her mane, but did not directly contradict the bard. Fig almost cracked a smile.

"I was killed by a piece of corn that came to life." Gorgug offered.

"I was eaten by a piece of corn." Fabian added. "I was swallowed by a corn monster." Goldenhoard nodded, clearly applying all of his willpower to remaining sympathetic and not breaking into hysterical laughter.

"I did lots of moves and spells and stuff." Fig lied.

"You died." Kristen frowned. "You passed out immediately."

"Nah, I didn't." Fig brushed her off.

"She cast one spell," Machaira corrected.

"You actually never fully died," Kristen admitted.

"Yeah, I don't remember this," Fig smiled with a confidence she could not have possibly felt. Adaine wished everyone would stop talking.

"Well, I want you to know that I am very sorry that this has happened." Goldenhoard rolled over the argument in favor of maintaining a comforting demeanor. "This is a traumatizing event. I want you to know that you are in good company. I remember the first time I died and was brought back to life."

"What?" Kristen exclaimed.

"Where did you go?" Gorgug asked.

"Where did I go?"

"When you died, where did you go?"

"What was it like?"

"I saw a vision of an endless plain of gold," Goldenhoard began. "And I was swimming in it like it was water."

"That is very different from what I experienced." Adaine's pity for Gorgug was at odds with her interest in the dragonborn afterlife.

"And the platinum dragon, Bahamut, soared overhead. And he said, 'You've been good, Goldenhoard. You have as many coins as you want!' And my mom…" Goldenhoard broke off to brush a tear out of his eye.

"All you want is coins?" Gorgug asked. Goldenhoard swallowed a sob.

"You went to hell, ok? You clearly went to hell." Fabian assured Gorgug. "You clearly went – "

"It's not – gold is a very spiritual thing for my people," Goldenhoard told Gorgug.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not an empty thing."

"I saw a horrible place, and Mr. Gibbons was there." Gorgug reminded him.

"Mr. Gibbons was in hell?"

"You don't need to air his dirty laundry like that," Kristen rebuked. "Going to hell is honestly the most embarrassing thing, and you're embarrassing – "

"Hey, leave him alone!" Fig stood up. "If I went somewhere and there was a bunch of skeletons, I'd make a party of it."

"Don't talk about hell as an embarrassment," Machaira growled. Adaine started. She wasn't used to the way Machaira could switch from a humanoid tone to a predatory rumble so quickly. "Gorgug didn't choose to go where he did, and you're belittling and trivializing a clearly painful experience. I was terrified in hell, and I chose to go."

"You went to hell?" Kristen repeated.

"Eh, sort of," Machaira shook her head from side to side. "A priest of Bast helped me have this religious, vision experience that let me see, well, not Hell, but the Abyss - it was a whole thing." The rogue cut herself off and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets.

"What kind of sick person does that?" Kristen exclaimed, face drawn in disgust. Machaira growled, ears twisting back over her head.

"I just don't like that kind of stuff," Gorgug said, disrupting the fight before it could begin. Adaine remained focused on Machaira as she angrily stuck her hands in her pocket. At some point she had to hear this girl's life story.

"I'm sorry, what did she say?" Fabian asked.

"I don't know what either of them are trying to say," Kristen admitted.

"Like, if I went somewhere that was scary, it wouldn't necessarily be hell." Fig elaborated on her original point. Adaine suddenly realized just how late she was going to be in getting home.

"Mr. Goldenhoard, please don't tell my dad," Adaine begged. Hopefully she could keep the full truth from her parents.

"I mean, you know for sure I have to tell your dad."

"Well, I…" Adaine stammered.

"Adaine saved us all," Machaira stepped forward.

"You spin me a situation where it's ok that I don't tell your dad."

"She was really heroic," Kristen protested, realigning with the girl she had just insulted. "You could tell him that she – "

"She killed a lunch lady," Gorgug offered. Adaine felt her chest constrict.

"He just won't get it," Adaine begged. "He already thinks that the Adventuring Academy is stupid.

"My understanding is you'll – " Goldenhoard paused. Adaine wished someone in this school could finish a sentence cleanly. "I understand why you don't want me to say anything. What I will tell your father is that you very heroically…um…ended the life of…"

"Oh god." Adaine put her head in her hands. Machaira took a sidestep to stand a little closer to her, silently offering support with looking at or touching her.

"A woman, who…" Goldenhoard struggled through. "Lived a long life?"

"That's – no, don't tell him that!" Adaine exclaimed.

"Yeah, maybe just be like – " Fig began.

"I worked with Doreen!" Goldenhoard cut her off. "I'm processing grief as well."

"Oh, maybe you recognize this." Fig raised one leg to show off her new tights. Goldenhoard dry sobbed.

"Why? That…" He raised a hand to his face. "I'm amazed that it fits to the contour of your leg. It's for a head. It's a completely different shape."

"It's what D would have wanted," Fig assured him.

"D?"

"I think you know."

"You gave her a nickname already?" Goldenhoard whispered. Kristen started giggling. Fabian and Machaira joined in. Adaine felt an insane grin split her face. After the sheer insanity of this day, laughter at the ridiculous bard torturing their vice principle wasn't optional. The hormones and emotional energy had to go somewhere.

"Posthumous nicknames notwithstanding," Goldenhoard swept on, steeling himself. "I want you to know that this is a traumatizing event, and you are in good company."

"Here here," Fig said, pulling out a flask.

"All who adventure – you can't drink here!" Goldenhoard exploded. "It's a school!" He snatched the flask out of her hand. "Look, you are all within your right to ask to be transferred from this school. Nobody would fault you for not wanting to continue your education here."

"This is so weird because I originally didn't want to go to this school, but now that I know something's afoot, I'm gonna come here." Fig declared.

"Oh, definitely," Machaira agreed.

"I think I wanna stay too," Kristen agreed. "That was…I don't know, I'm starting to have questions about my religion. All that evil stuff was corn, and it happened because my bible went into the thing. And then god was like a…frat boy." Fig laughed. "God was wearing those sandals that have the beer bottle opener at the bottom of the sandal, like if you want to put the bottom of your shoe on top of something you're gonna drink."

"There's a world where that's really chill and cool." Gorgug said. Kristen frowned. "That's better than leaves that cut open your hands."

"Hell." Fabian clarified. "Just call it hell, alright?"

"I don't know if it's hell," Gorgug muttered.

"Guys, that sounds so metal," Fig said, coming to stand up next to Gorgug. "What if it's metal heaven that he went to?"

"I just can't go to Mumple," Adaine almost cried at the thought. Her sister would NEVER let her live it down. Not that she would ever let her live Aguefort down either, but Mumple would be so much worse.

"I mean I have to stay here because – "

"I'm not going to Mumple either," Kristen said, waving her arms back and forth. "I don't think any of us want to go to Mumple."

"Oh, absolutely," Machaira agreed.

"Mumple is a fine school," Goldenhoard mildly defended the rival 'institution'.

"No, it's not." Fabian corrected him. "You don't have to be nice around us, alright? Let's be real." Murmurs of agreement echoes around the room.

"Let's be honest. What we need from you right now is honesty and directness." Kristen asserted.

"Alright, alright," Goldenhoard relented. "I'm going to call your parents. We're going to cancel your detention early."

"Hell yeah." Fabian smirked.

"Nice." Fig grinned.

"Come on guys, at least we got something out of this," Kristen snickered.

"Imagine if we had to finish talking about our feelings covered in blood and corn?" Machaira didn't fully laugh, but her voice rippled with the effort of restraining it.

"We basically are already," Adaine pointed out.

"No, I'm traumatized from battle," Fabian chuckled. "There was a brief moment in which I forgot…" He couldn't finish the sentence from laughing, instead turning to Gorgug. "Oh, sorry, yes."

"Oh, I'm not even thinking about that," Gorgug promised. Fabian briefly descended into a mute fit of laughter.

"…okay," he squeezed out at last. "No, I just got to…you'd think, ha ha ha, I just forgot everything that happened, and now it's all rushing back. Christ, I'm so sorry."

"So wait," Fig began, turning to Gorgug. "Can we never say 'hell yeah' now?"

"No," Gorgug protested. "I was – "

"Are we gonna get all hot and bothered every time – " Fabian took up the teasing. Machaira's grin threatened to start showing some teeth as the tabaxi rocked back and forth on her heels, one hand over her mouth and one on her stomach. Adaine's face hurt a bit. Gods, they were laughing at nothing, and it felt so good.

"Guys, I was saying the exact – I was thinking the exact opposite." Gorgug stuttered, smiling around his tusks.

"Alright," Goldenhoard made himself heard over the noise. "I'm going to go to the office. I'm going to call your parents. We're gonna take care of this, alright?" Goldenhoard turned to leave.

"Bye," Fig called out, tossing her hair a bit. Goldenhoard started to wave farewell, realized who had spoken, and darted out of the room.

"Oh god," Adaine snickered. Kristen sank onto a desk laughing, staff propped in the crook of one arm. After a few minutes a buff guy in sweatpants walked in, spear strapped to his back, whistle around his neck. Adaine thought his name was Coach Daybreak, but she wasn't sure. The coach looked about the room, finally settling on Kristen, eyes full of remorse.

"Gosh, kiddo, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry guys." The coach readjusted a massive stack of sweatpants and sweatshirts tucked under his arm, all emblazoned with the Aguefort owlbear logo and chant.

"Are we all on the team now?" Fig asked with a grin.

"No," Daybreak frowned at her. "All your shit is covered in blood and corn. Sorry, your stuff is covered – "

"That's okay," Kristen stopped him. "I'm – we're so on our way out of it."

"If you wanna hit the showers and get cleaned up before your folks get here, here's some towels." The coach slung a stack of towels from his other arm onto the front desk and set the clothes next to them. "Here's some clothes. You can go for it, alright?" He gestured down the halls toward the showers. Adaine peered at the coach, cold trickles of suspicion itching down her spine at a grown man offering clothes to children. But the coach didn't seem malicious. He seemed like a good and decent man. As he turned to leave, Kristen told them that she had grown up with the coach and trusted him. Coach had his hand on the doorknob when Gorgug suddenly gasped.

"Dad?" Gorgug phrased the word as a question. Adaine blinked, then blinked again. Machaira frowned. Fabian looked about as if he had missed something. Coach Daybreak slowly turned to look at Gorgug.

"What?"

"Are you my dad?" Gorgug asked again.

"No, cause he's a half-orc, and you're a half-orc," Fig began, putting a hand on Gorgug's arm.

"I'm a human," Daybreak corrected her, offended and confused. "I'm a full human."

"Oh," Fig blushed. Adaine got the feeling none of them were running on 100% right now.

"Coach, he went to hell today," Fabian said as way of apology. "You know, it's a whole thing."

"God kiddo," Daybreak sighed and turned to Gorgug. "You gotta go – "

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Gorgug announced, grabbing a towel and some clothes and fast walking out of the room.

"Go take a shower." Daybreak confirmed. "Go get yourself cleaned up." Murmurs of ascent rose from the group.

"I am not interested in taking a shower," Fabian declared, leaning against the wall as if this somehow made him cool.

"I'm going to rub some more blood on myself," Fig tried to one up him, wiping some of the blood off Adaine and Machaira and smearing it over her arms. Adaine stared at her in disgust while Machaira loosed a long-suffering sigh, face in her hand. As the three remaining girls entered the locker room, they took a look at the clothes the coach had brought. While he probably meant well, all of the clothes were giant, more for male half-orc seniors than freshman girls. For a moment, everyone looked at each other, silently asking the same question.

"Look, that phoenix egg thing restored my spell power for the day, but I am exhausted." Adaine broke the silence. "I can either mend our old clothes or clean them but not both." Machaira and Kristen stared at each other.

"I have corn in my hair," Kristen stated. "I don't want it on my shirt too."

"Yeah, this is like thirty minutes of sewing, maybe forty," Machaira agreed, gesturing to her jacket. "I'd also rather not go home in pants I could parachute in." Adaine, happy they could come to a mutual agreement for once today, conjured magic to her fingertips for what was hopefully the last time that day and siphoned the blood and corn residues off of their clothes. Machaira smiled but stuffed the owlbear clothes into her bag anyway.

"You're a handy friend to have around." Her tail reached out and flicked Adaine on the shoulder. The act, while totally alien, felt friendly, and paired nicely with her smile to take the teasing out of her voice.

Adaine wasn't totally comfortable undressing in front of the these girls, but it seemed the others shared the same sentiment. Machaira took her boots off on the bench before claiming the far-left stall. The moment the curtain was drawn a clawed hand poked out to grab her bag. Adaine could hear clothes rustling as they were stuffed into the bag behind the curtain. Kristen blushed from just this and followed suit at the adjacent stall. Adaine technically had privacy but wasn't sure if the others would judge her for undressing in the central area and copied her teammates.

She turned the water on to its hottest setting and vigorously scrubbed herself. That blasted chunk of tooth on her face was the first thing to go, but she washed her whole body three times over, relishing in the heat and friction and wonderful feeling of finally being clean. The others finished before she did, but since Adaine couldn't hear the scrape of curtains she assumed they were remaining in the stall to dry and dress. Deciding that was probably the safest move, socially, to make with two girls she had just met, Adaine did the same. When she emerged from the stall, Kristen was tying her shoes on the bench, but the sound of vigorous drying still echoed out of Machaira's stall. Mutters about 'stupid non-absorbent cheap towels' floated out.

"Machaira, you're not, you know," Kristen began in what Adaine had begun to think of as her 'religious superiority' tone. The cleric cleared her throat and tried to whisper, but it still echoed about the dressing room. "Defiling yourself, are you? Because that will get you sent to hell with Gorgug." A truly terrifying growl rose from the stall, shaking the mirrors and spiking Adaine's blood pressure.

"I'm covered in fur, you ass," Machaira snapped from behind the curtain. "It takes a while to dry off."

"Oh, is that why you're afraid of water?" Kristen asked, seemingly oblivious to how much she was pissing off the other girl.

"I happen to love a hot shower," Machaira snapped. The sound of savage toweling ceased, and a zipper echoed against the tiles. "And I've been swimming since I was a cub. I just don't like to _stay_ wet." Adaine briefly imagined being covered in wet fur and shuddered. She wasn't sure she liked the image, but she could sympathize with how uncomfortable wet hair was. Machaira stomped out of the stall a minute later, head fur still damp. The tabaxi grumbled, clearly uncomfortable, and flung her wet towels at the appropriate bin. She pulled out a simple polished wooden comb and began to comb her head, refusing to make eye contact. "I work hard to keep my coat soft, and I don't like to ruin it by getting wet and cold."

Adaine felt her previous idea about being covered in fur challenged. The damp fur was a shade darker than when dry, and without its fluffy component Machaira's figure was shown a shade leaner and wilder, the curves of her skull and jaws sharp and dangerous. But she certainly wasn't ugly, just…different from anyone Adaine had ever known.

Machaira, perhaps embarrassed by Kristen's comments, kept her head down as she combed her head and tail, red showing through the whiter patches on her throat and cheeks. The tabaxi kept her ears firmly pressed against her head, but her damp fur better revealed the old wounds scoring the back of her head and neck. To Adaine, they almost looked like knife slashes, not that she had a lot of experience with such things. Again, she wondered what had happened to this girl. By the time the three girls deemed themselves presentable, Machaira had only successfully dried her tail and not her head. The appendage whipped about like a fluffy boa, much to the consternation of its owner.

Gorgug was waiting with Fabian and Fig in the classroom when the girls returned. He was wearing the clothes coach had brought, but they since they almost fit him Adaine mentally declared him the most civilized of the boys. He too looked calmer after a hot shower, though still sad and scared. Fig was talking to him about music, forcing the shy half-orc to engage in the conversation. Adaine decided that she shouldn't interfere. It was probably better that Gorgug talk to someone instead of sealing himself away. _Not that I would do any different_, Adaine wryly reprimanded herself. Goldenhoard walked into the room, nervously clasping his hands together.

"Well you parents are here. I've told them…some of what happened, but I didn't want to go into detail because my responsibility is not solely to them but also to you. They know that there was combat. They know that some of you passed away. They know that…well, they know that you killed who you killed." Adaine felt all eyes in the room go her way and blushed, chest constricting. As much as Goldenhoard tried to downplay it, she was the only one who had killed anybody today.

"And you told them that we all had an equal part in the fight, right?" Fig asked, sounding nervous for the first time that day. Adaine wondered if maybe their bard had some real concerns about her own lackluster performance that day.

"I don't know that I thought to mention that specifically," Goldenhoard admitted.

"You didn't tell them that I killed her with a ladle, right? Because that's worse than not doing anything." Adaine said. Her last hope for getting through this day was that her parents might at least assume she had overcome someone magically. MAYBE then they wouldn't be too hard on her.

"Your mother asked a question about what spell you used, and I think my silence spoke volumes."

"That's worse," Adaine groaned, tilting her head back and covering her face with her hands as her last hope dissolved. She felt a brief squeeze on her shoulder, and something flicked against her back. When Adaine took her hands away, she saw Machaira taking her hand away, golden eyes full of support even as she took a step back out of Adaine's personal space.

"Well, adieu," Goldenhoard said. "Everyone have a good night. I've told your parents that you will be waiting for them on the front steps. I hope you all have a good night's sleep." Suddenly he paused, looking about the room. "Where is that goblin? Where is that guy?" The teens looked at each other and all reached the same conclusion: Riz didn't trust the faculty and must have stayed behind to watch the crime scene.

"Oh, The Ball?" Fabian asked. It was clear they would be addressing him as such for the foreseeable future.

"Oh, he's, yeah, The Ball," Fig tried to bluff. "Oh, he's probably in the shower."

"Yeah, he just likes to take a shower." Kristen agreed, smiling a bit too wide.

"He takes really long showers," Fig elaborated.

"If a teacher is your dad, they have to tell you, right?" Gorgug asked, thankfully distracting Goldenhoard from how two girls, one of whom didn't go to the locker-room at all, knew about the goblin boy's shower habits. Despite herself, Adaine felt another crazy laugh work its way up in the face of the sheer silliness of the day. "There's got to be a rule about that somewhere."

"If a teacher is your dad…" Goldenhoard began, face creasing as he tried to process the question.

"Are you thinking of a cop?" Kristen supplied. "If they're a cop they have to tell you?"

"They have to tell – if a teacher, no, I think I've heard that. If a teacher is your dad they have to tell you." Machaira's jaws were clamped shut, her shoulders shaking with repressed laughter. Adaine staggered back a pace, hand over her stomach as she tried to hold in more impolite noise of glee. Oh god, this day was an emotional rollercoaster. She knew Gorgug was asking a real question, but she couldn't keep up the refined mask for much longer. Gorgug noticed the others laughing though and grinned despite himself.

"You don't even believe that," Kristen accused him through her giggles.

"I…" Goldenhoard began, clearly trying to remain professional. "First of all, there's some sort of epistemological question hanging in the air, which is they might not know they are your dad. Right? So that's a possibility."

"Okay, nevermind," Gorgug muttered, head bowed.

"Also," Goldenhoard continued louder, hands going up. "We probably shouldn't – he's probably not your dad. The odds seem low."

"I think that your dad is gonna come to visit you in like a vision at some point 'cause that's what happened with me." Fig assured Gorgug, placing a hand on his arm.

"Yeah?" Gorgug asked hopefully.

"That might be true, but that's an irresponsible thing to tell an adopted child." Goldenhoard said.

"I think that." Fig ignored Goldenhoard.

"I just gotta knock myself out?" Gorgug concluded. Adaine snorted. This really shouldn't be so funny.

"No, don't listen to Fig," Kristen begged.

"Alright! Everyone go home! All go home!" Goldenhoard insisted. He probably didn't want any more student injuries on school property that day. As they left, Kristen took out her crystal and asked if they could exchange numbers to set up a group text.

"Let's just talk tomorrow," Fabian protested, shoulders hunched. Maybe he was regretting not taking a shower, or maybe he just wanted to be done with this day.

"That sounds good to me, again," Gorgug confirmed.

"Okay, yeah, that's fine," Fig sighed, fatigue finally showing in her voice.

"Are you guys online?" Kristen asked. Adaine had a sinking feeling that the cleric had something extremely religious planned.

"I gotta go," Gorgug responded, continuing to walk the same direction as the rest of the group.

"I'm also going to leave," Fabian added. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, real quick, before we go," Fig turned to walk backward in front of the group. Adaine kept her eyes peeled for the next wall or flight of stairs. "I just wanted to tell you guys, like, that I know I don't really wear my heart on my sleeve, so you guys might not be able to tell this, but, like, I trust you guys. You guys are really cool. Like, you're cool with me." The tiefling quirked a smile even as she started back-walking faster to put distance between them, jogging to stay ahead of Gorgug and Fabian.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying too," Kristen confirmed, sounding a little hurt that the group took Fig's outreach better than hers. "Like, we just went through a lot together. Are you at least online? You can find me by my name and then we can all just, like, chat…" She trailed off. Adaine felt a little bad about putting her off.

"Yeah," Fig assured her.

"Yeah, I…" Adaine trailed off, not sure how to vocalize the weird mix of apprehension and trust she had for this group of people who should have been strangers but weren't.

"You all have my business card," Riz reminded them, popping up around the corner with a wink and a finger to his lips.

"I am online, but my parents monitor everything, and I feel like I'm…" Adaine trailed off. _Scared to tell them about my new mostly non-magical friends, none of whom are high elves?_ Her mind supplied. While true, she could never admit out loud just how horrible her family would be to these people.

"I, um, don't have internet at home," Machaira muttered, hunching her shoulders. "I, uh, don't even have it on my crystal." She shrunk a little deeper inward, briefly flashing a cheap, dented crystal that probably only cost thirty or forty gold pieces, the kind that couldn't do anything more than call or text and didn't allow emoji's.

"Let's just meet here tomorrow?" Gorgug seemed shyly determined to get a break from the group. Adaine briefly wondered who was going to win the award for most awkward member of this party. Oh, god. This was her adventuring party…

"Why don't we meet in the parking lot tomorrow morning?" Riz parroted the half-orc.

"We'll meet tomorrow morning." Fabian relented.

"Okay, but I do, once a week, I, it's not a bible study – " Kristen stammered. And there it was.

"Okay!" Fabian cut her off, waving a hand around. The rest of the group quickly agreed to turn down this 'not a bible study'.

"There's snacks," Kristen tempted.

"I worship a different goddess," Machaira reminded Kristen, tail whipping behind her. Adaine yelped as it caught her across the back of her legs, causing her to stumble. Machaira grabbed her arm and helped her stand with a flat-eared apology. Adaine noticed how calloused her hands were, the grey hide of her palms tougher than elven skin. Kristen tried to protest, but the whole party continued to emphatically shoot down her request, though they did all trade numbers. Fig was especially frustrated that Machaira's crystal didn't allow her to take a profile picture for the tiefling.

Gorgug piled into a tiny gnomish car that didn't seem like it could fit him, much to Fabian's delight, and was immediately hugged from the front seat by his adopted parents. Adaine couldn't hear what they said, but they had clearly been crying and kissed their hulking son relentlessly. Gorgug eventually stuck his head out the window, and they drove off.

Kristen's parents pulled up in a station wagon, three little brothers bouncing up and down in the backseat, struggling to embrace their sister around their parents. Adaine watched her parents' expressions go from concern to wonder to confusion to barely controlled fury before they pulled away. Adaine decided she didn't really want to know the story there.

Fig's mom arrived on the back of a massive griffin. Even after Fig dropped the 'finally met my real dad' bomb, she didn't seem concerned with anything other than her daughter's well-being. Adaine watched Riz and his mom talk at a distance. Eventually the detective hugged her son close, brushing a hand through his hair before walking him to the car, arm around his shoulders. Fabian stood off to the side, shifting from foot to foot and not looking at anyone as he waited for his papa.

Adaine stood stiff as a board, arms at her sides, trying to look presentable or at least less terrified. Machaira stood close to Adaine, talking to her when Adaine spoke but remaining silent otherwise. Adaine appreciated that. Her stomach was churning by the time her parents' car pulled up, but she felt slightly better for not being alone.

Adaine's mother stepped out of the passenger seat and walked up briskly, arms drawn in, one hand covering the side of her face lest anyone see her at Aguefort. Her tight expression was an all-too familiar combination of anger and disappointment. Each _clack_ of her high heels on the pavement knocked Adaine's nerves up a peg.

"Your father would like you to get into the car." Arianwyn Abernant whispered in that controlled tone of a professor to a problem student, somehow loud enough to be easily audible and hushed enough to convey embarrassment that she need speak here at all. "He doesn't want to step out and be seen here."

"I don't have to have him step out for me to get into the car." Adaine responded, trying to match her mother's controlled disdain. "I'm not an idiot."

"He wanted to let you know that he wasn't going to step out." Her mother clarified.

"Oh really, oh really," Adaine drawled, face drawing into a sneer. "How very mature."

"I don't think that this is a proper time for you to be chastising your mother." Arianwyn rebuked. Adaine wished her mother would yell or curse or do anything other than maintain this thin veneer of civility over her disappointment. "You are, first of all, sleeveless." She paused, taking a moment to stare at Adaine and really drive the shame home. "And second of all, I understand that you defended yourself through your martial prowess." Adaine stared at her in silent fury. There were no words that could ever fully express how much she despised this woman right now.

"Do you mind if I say something rude to her?" Adaine jumped at Machaira's voice. The tabaxi had come to stand just behind Adaine, golden eyes wide with incredulous rage. "I feel like I should ask since, you know, she's your mother." Adaine stared at the other girl for a moment, absorbing the fact that someone was finally taking her side in a family argument.

"Go right ahead."

"I'm sorry, and you are?" Arianwyn inquired. The high elf towered head and shoulders over the tabaxi, but Machaira was not the least bit impressed.

"I'm the fucking cat's meow, you oversized dragon's liver." Adaine and her mother took a moment to stare at her, mouths open. Adaine slowly began to grin while Arianwyn's cold disdain deepened.

"I'm sorry, did you just call me a dragon's liver?" Had that tone been directed at Adaine the young wizard would have flinched, her freezing ire almost tangible. But Machaira's expression was something else entirely. Those feline eyes glowed in the dim evening, their light saturated with contempt like a simmering bed of coals. Lips curled up into a practiced sneer that made Adaine's look childish, shining white teeth bared in a truly fearsome display.

"Yep." That one word almost staggered her mother it was so heavy scorn. "Fatty on the outside, and oh so full of bile on the inside." For a count of ten all sound stopped. Arianwyn, respected professor of Hudol's college program, wife of the high elf ambassador of Fallinel, had frozen, expression slack with incomprehension. Adaine's face hurt from smiling. Nothing she could have said would ever have made her parents understood how much she resented their cold, inferior treatment of her. But coming from Machaira, a tabaxi – the race her parents decried the most as substandard trash – there could be no greater insult levied at her mother.

Adaine took a step toward her friend and planted a kiss on her cheek before she knew what she was doing. For the half-second of contact, she felt the warmth that radiated from Machaira's body, the softness of her facial fur, so short and fine that it almost wasn't there. Stiff whiskers brushed across her own cheek. Her skin felt especially sensitive to their presence. Adaine stepped back to see Machaira's expression had shifted from a fiery sneer to blank disbelief, cheeks glowing red beneath her fur. For a moment, Adaine was worried Machaira was offended. She stared at Adaine, blinked twice, and finally smiled, hiding all the teeth that could fit inside her mouth. Machaira's tail rose to wave above her head like a fluffy yellow flag.

"You know, I thought I liked you before. Now I know I do." Machaira declared. Adaine's smile relaxed.

"Get in the car, Adaine." Her mother whispered. Adaine followed her to the car with a last wave goodbye to Machaira. The tabaxi stood with her hands in her jacket pockets, tail elevated, and mock saluted her before wandering over to Fabian. Whatever hell she got later, Adaine decided that this was a girl she was going to be friends with, and nothing her parents could say was going to ruin that. Her parents did not speak the entire ride home until they began to pull up the driveway. Adaine's father inhaled, a long, sharp, punctual sound to herald his disapproval.

"I never thought that I would have a daughter that would receive detention." There was a finality to the statement that took Adaine a few seconds to understand as her father exited the car and entered the house. THAT'S the thing he's mad about? _I killed a woman with a ladle, and he's mad that I got detention?_ she thought. Adaine did not need confirmation that her parents sucked, but sometimes she got it anyway. Adaine stormed off to her room and shut the door without needing to be told, fuming internally. Deciding that this was no time to be productive, she elected to sulk on her bed. At least overwhelming anger kept panic attacks at bay. Unfortunately, there were worse forces in the world than her parents.

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled from her doorway, oozing with gleeful high-society spite. "Haven't we had an exciting first day?" Adaine glared over her shoulder at Aelwyn. There was no point in locking the door against this particular foe.

"What do you want?" Adaine snapped at her. Aelwyn feigned surprise.

"I'm here to make sure my little sister is okay."

"No, you're not. You never want me to be okay. You always make things worse."

"Now if that were true would you have listened to me about stealing the book?" Aelwyn's perfect smile grew imperceptibly.

"You knew that wasn't a tradition," Adaine accused. "You lied like you always do."

"Well if I always lie, why did you listen?" Aelwyn countered. "Seems pretty stupid to listen to someone who is always lying, doesn't it? Besides, I can't be perfect all the time. Only when I'm doing anything important." Adaine wanted nothing more than to cast another ray of sickness, but where she stood her sister would be vomiting into her room. Besides, she was so tired she didn't think she could cast the spell before Aelwyn could reflect it.

"You weren't just wrong; you wanted to get me in trouble."

"It's very immature to blame someone else for a crime you committed," Aelwyn's voice was as cold as their parents' but more like sleet than snow: a burning, stinging cold that seeped between the layers of defense against it. "And what a rap sheet you've drawn up: stealing, murdering the lunch lady – without magic, I might add – and taking up with a cat. You're probably making yourself quite popular with those rough and tumble adventurers." Adaine tried to hide her dismay, but she knew she was doing a terrible job. Everyone always saw right through her.

"Machaira is just a friend." Adaine argued, feeling her wall of anger begin to weaken.

"Oh, no need to defend yourself, Adaine." Aelwyn's cold, calculated stare said otherwise. "I'm sure you seem like quite a catch. What tabaxi wouldn't be attracted to a thief who beats old women to death? And coming out of the closet on your first day will probably have all the little half-breeds lined up to get a piece of you – "

Adaine cast witch bolt. Her sister only barely managed to throw up a shield to block it.

"Adaine! Stop casting spells at your sister this instant!" Her father called from downstairs. He never yelled, only directed icy commands toward her. Adaine knew he could hear them both, but he would always take Aelwyn's side. Her sister's expression hardly twitched, and somehow that made it all the more sinister.

"I bet you look downright pretty next to her. She's probably so used to furry dykes that you're nearly elegant." The words stabbed into her head. Adaine felt her breaths coming shorter, vision blurring slightly. It was getting harder to think straight. Her chest tightened. She felt smaller on her bed. Aelwyn looked down at her with those stupid bright blue eyes and perfect teeth and flawless skin and large, tastefully covered chest. Adaine didn't need anyone to tell her that Aelwyn was prettier, but it had never been important. With a betraying blush, Adaine realized that was her first kiss, even if it wasn't a real kiss.

"Machaira is just a friend." Adaine insisted. "What she said to mother was so brilliant I just gave her a friendly peck. You do it with all your friends, and it doesn't mean anything."

"Mmmm, let's say you do only want to be friends with that tabaxi, which is, if I may be honest, below even you, does your little pussy cat know that?" Adaine's blush faded as she lost all the color in her face, the implications of what her sister said sinking in. Her vision swam further, the room darkening so only Aelwyn remained in focus.

"Get out," Adaine croaked, hating how weak and hoarse her voice was. Aelwyn shrugged indifferently. She'd already accomplished her goal.

"Whatever you say." Her sister closed the door. The latch clicking into place was like a starting gun. Adaine began to truly hyperventilate, breaths too shallow and quick to take in enough oxygen. Her vision nearly faded completely and horrible, ugly tears ripped through her mask of control, staining her face. Adaine sank onto the comforter, burying her shame in the fine elven silk. She had been wrong. Aelwyn didn't always lie because sometimes the cruelest thing to say was the truth.

Adaine really hadn't considered dating anyone at Aguefort. She had been too preoccupied by nerves at attending such a different style of school. She had certainly never thought about having a girlfriend. Adaine didn't condemn homosexuality, but her family certainly did, and Adaine had never found women attractive that way before. She'd just been so happy to see her mother finally put down that she'd overreacted a little. But…did Machaira know that? She hadn't seemed upset when Adaine kissed her. Did she think Adaine wanted to be girlfriends? Would she be mad when she found out the truth? Was Adaine going to lose her new friend after the first day?

Horrible scenarios ran through Adaine's mind, leaving her shaking and weak and sick with fear. Eventually the panic attack burned itself out, but Adaine was too nervous to go to sleep. She kept taking out her crystal and putting it away. Part of her hoped Machaira would text her so they could clear the air and feared what her silence might mean. The more rational part of her understood that Machaira probably wouldn't feel the need to talk until they met at school tomorrow. Though she had kept her cool, Machaira might even need her own freak out time. Adaine bitterly doubted that the fierce warrior felt the need to break down and sob.

Confused and miserable, Adaine didn't even have the energy to change out of her sleeveless uniform and eventually sank into a fitful sleep. Terrifying scenes of being alone, abandoned by friends she had misled, torn apart by corn, or dragged and flung into a prison cell to be taunted through the bars dogged her dreams. Her sister's cruel words echoed about her brain, forcing her to a shaky wakefulness before exhaustion dragged her back into the twisted maze of nightmares. At some point in the early morning an image of two golden eyes, soft and warm, broke through the haze of shame.

"I, uh, understand if you don't want to see me or the rest of us after this. But, whatever you decide, I'm really glad I met you. You're a strong person." Even in her sleeping half-panic attack, Adaine could not deny the sincerity in those eyes or that voice. Hypnotized by an exotic accent, smooth as honey and firm as bedrock, Adaine drifted into a less violent sleep pattern. When she woke the next morning, Adaine was still afraid, but her anxiety had subsided to manageable levels. She was going to talk to her friends, figure out who invaded the school with evil corn, and clear things up with Machaira.


	4. Rise of the Dead Teens - Part 2: Riddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a teenager sucks. But it's always better when you have someone else to stand against the crazy with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I have not copied conversation verbatim. This chapter of the campaign is a communication nightmare. As I said before, most new content comes during downtime, so expect to see more chapters like this one in the near future. Also, these chapters will receive additional editing to clean them up within an hour after posting, as mistakes are easier to identify in the posted format.

**Rise of the Dead Teens Part 2: Riddles**

Adaine had only just sat up from bed and undid the first button of her tattered prep school vest when a blue hexagonal screen flared in front of her. Adaine yelped, but her sister was fortunately in the bathroom and unable to hear her. Adaine stared at the screen, which she realized was a form of Thaumaturgy communication. A message, tagged to 10:00 p.m. last night, said: You've been added to Prayer Chain by Kristen Applebees. Adaine sighed through her nose. It was too early in the morning for this. Below the initial title, a few messages sat in the group chat.

10:01 p.m. Kristen Applebees: Hi guys! We can communicate on here. There are 3 other old women who are using this for their real prayers, but they're not gonna understand anything we're talking about so speak freely! You should get the invitation as soon as you wake up.

4:34 a.m. Machaira Mekhit: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT, KRISTEN! IT IS TOO EARLY IN THE FUCKING MORNING FOR THIS SHIT!

4:35 a.m. Machaira Mekhit: Sorry, sorry. Not much of a morning person.

After Machair's figurative explosion came a series of flame GIF's from Fig, and a couple of messages in Halfling from names Adaine didn't recognize, probably some very confused old women whose prayer chain had been taken over by irreverent teenagers. Mildly more cheerful, Adaine dressed for school and tried to plan how to talk to Machaira before the meeting with the rest of their party. Throughout a silent breakfast, Adaine dreaded the coming conversation over her stupid impulse. While significantly calmer now, Adaine still wasn't sure how exactly her friend felt. Fortunately, Machaira wasn't hard to find. The tabaxi was walking up to the school as Adaine hopped off the bus, her thick tail snapping every which way to keep from hitting people.

"Hi, Adaine," Machaira began, ears flicking down, tail swinging low between her legs. "I, um, I'm… I really can't say that I regret what I said yesterday, but I shouldn't have said it. She's your mom, and it wasn't my place. I hope you didn't catch too much flak from me."

"No, what you said was brilliant," Adaine assured her. "That just, that was the highlight of yesterday, truly. But about that…" Adaine trailed off, embarrassed. She could feel her cheeks glowing, and her chest tightened. Adaine opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again three times. Machaira waited, more curious than impatient.

"Is this about your mother?" She ventured a guess after a few minutes. "The panic attacks, corn, prayer chain, the kiss – "

"Yes, that one," Adaine said quickly, fully red now. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I just got so happy when you finally put my mother in her place. My parents suck so much. They didn't even care that I had killed the lunch lady with a ladle; they only cared that I got detention. And then my sister said some awful things, and I just, I didn't know what you thought! I didn't mean it in a, you know, sort of romantic way, but not that I think there's anything wrong with that! You're not, I mean, I just didn't think – "

"I guessed." Machaira mercifully corked Adaine's nervous babbling. "The look on your face after I explained the joke…" Machaira chuffed, a deep roll of laughter rumbling from her chest. "Like seeing the sun coming out of storm clouds. I figured you weren't interested. Perhaps I'm assuming a bit here, but you don't seem the type to go for girls."

"I'm not against it," Adaine protested.

"But you never considered it," Machaira guessed. Adaine's expression seemed to answer her. "Either way, it's fine. I'm glad you were happy. I was more worried that you'd be mad once the heat of the moment died away."

"No, it was brilliant," Adaine reassured her, grinning that none of her fears were realized. She still had her friend. Machaira quirked another smile, ears flicking back up and tail rising off the ground. She held out her hands.

"Want me to take that orb for you?"

"Oh god, please, yes," Adaine groaned, pouring the stupid fucking ball into her arms. Her father wouldn't let her wear normal clothes, insisted that she carry this dumb crystal to school, and passively encouraged her sister's torture; yet Adaine still had friends after one day. Maybe Aguefort was a good fit after all. Together, Adaine and Machaira walked over to the parking lot to meet up with the rest of their party. The seven exchanged good mornings but had to rush to make it to the morning assembly, a somber funereal event on the school lawn.

Goldenhoard waited at a lectern, having traded out his suit for a long black overcoat. Little flower wreaths for Principle Aguefort, Lunch Lady Doreen, and Mr. Gibbons stood next to him. Adaine and her party looked at each other, uneasily grouping at the back of the assembly. As the band began to play a slow, mournful tune, Goldenhoard began to speak.

"Students of the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, I'm not going to lie. Yesterday… was not a great day for the school."

"Here, here," Fig called up at him, unscrewing her flask above her head so that Goldenhoard could see it.

"Get – get the drink," Goldenhoard yelled. Adaine giggled with the rest of her party at their silly bard. "Get the drink! Do we not – who's at the front desk that's letting this happen?" A teacher ran over while Goldenhoard had a fit.

"Can I take that?" He asked. "Can I get the glass?"

"Yeah, you want some?" Fig could barely finish the offer through her snickers. She poured a capful and handed it to him.

"Okay, I'm going to need to take that." The teacher left with the flask and cap.

"Okay, okay," Fig said to his retreating figure. "Fair, I've got more, that's cool. I get it." Goldenhoard sighed, regaining his composure and sweeping on with his speech.

"Um, risk is inevitable in the lives of those that would seek to do great works upon the face of the world." Fabian stared at Goldenhoard, face contorting with some powerful emotion Adaine could not name. "Danger, combat, and even death." Gorgug began to cry, and Fig placed a hand on his shoulder. "These are the things we risk to make a difference. And while we've never had three on the first day, for sure, people have died here before. It's an adventuring school. People die." Adaine glanced back and forth with wide eyes to see how the others were taking this statement. She seemed to be the only one nervous about the casual acceptance of death. Typical.

"It's frankly insane that we're open." Kristen snorted. "I'll be for real. It doesn't fully make sense that we are an accredited – we are a publicly funded school. We get money from the government, and we've had, again, never three faculty in the same year, let alone the first day…"

"This isn't a great eulogy," Fig whispered.

"It's crazy that we're back at school the second day," Gorgug replied. The whole group laughed. "There's not a day off."

"Yeah, you'd think there'd be, like, a day of remembrance," Fig chortled. Oh god, they were all laughing at a tragedy they had caused, and it felt so much better to laugh together as a group than to stay home alone.

"Yeah," Gorgug agreed.

"Also, what is this weird thing about the government? God!" Fabian asked as if he had never heard of public funding.

"So…" Goldenhoard stalled, trying to remember the next part of his speech.

"He's sweating," Gorgug noticed.

"He's sweating a lot." Fig grinned at the half orc.

"Did you guys get my prayer chain?" Kristen asked.

"Yes, shut up and please stop," Fabian commanded then begged. "It's very invasive." Machaira snorted, and Adaine privately wondered whether Fabian had screamed more girlishly than she had when the prayer chain popped up.

"Basically," Goldenhoard finally got around to finishing his speech. "I just wanted to say to you that you are safe here, but, you know, don't be an idiot. You know, stay on your toes, because it's gonna, it's gonna come up again. Um…" Goldenhoard struggled to keep going.

"How many people do you think are gonna die today?" Gorgug asked.

"I feel like – yeah, I feel like," Fig stammered. Fabian leaned back, cranking up his cool kid attitude, and started clapping, each slap resounding crisp and loud. The school responded almost at once, applause swelling from the crowd. Goldenhoard grinned, clearly relieved to have an out.

"Great. Yes, that's for Principle Aguefort, Lunch Lady Doreen, and Mr. Gibbons." The seven teens struggled to quiet their laughter. "I'll never forget principle Aguefort. The school bears his name. And it will be hard to live up to that. Well, moving on, some quick announcements – " Fig's cackle broke out over the crowd.

"Whoa," she exclaimed.

"Wow," Fabian agreed. "Talk about a hard transition."

"A hard pivot from eulogy to announcements," Fig gestured from her left to her right, rebellious attitude forgotten as she ate up every chance to tease Goldenhoard. The crowd murmured, echoing their thoughts.

"Obviously hard," Goldenhoard protested. "Obviously, this is not taking away from the grief that we are all moving through. If anybody has grief to process, you can talk to Mr. Gib – no. You can talk to, I guess, I guess me! I guess it's me you talk to. Come and talk to me."

"GOLD-EN-ROD! GOLD-EN-ROD!" Fig began to chant, emphasizing each syllable.

"That's not his name," Riz informed her, but it didn't matter. In seconds the entire school had taken up the chant. Adaine even joined in, relishing in the silliness after last night. Goldenhoard's unamused expression quieted most of the student body after a few rounds of chanting, but two determined souls kept up the chant.

"GOLD-EN-ROD! GOLD-EN-ROD!" Kristen and Riz roared, getting into the spirit of things a bit late. The other students weren't bold enough to keep up the chant but offered plenty of supportive smiles and laughter.

"OKAY!" Goldenhoard bellowed. "It's different than my name, and I guess that's funny to children." Fig staggered across the grass, clutching her sides as she laughed so hard she sweated. Machaira had to steady her, the tabaxi's own laughter rumbling up from deep in her chest.

"Why did we do that?' Gorgug asked. "It just feels weird."

"It did get a little weird," Fabian admitted, grinning to show his complete lack of regret.

"Quick announcements!" Goldenhoard tried to plough through his original point. "The vote came in. We're bringing prom king and queen back this year, so that's fun!" Adaine realized that she had completely forgotten to vote, not that she particularly cared. "A light note."

"Maybe it can be Doreen and Aguefort?" Kristen suggested. Goldenhoard glared at them, clearly identifying the source of half his morning headaches.

"Okay, it's gonna be, okay, students, but again, this is not really a back and forth. This is more of an announcement situation." Goldenhoard cleared his throat. "We are looking for some new kitchen staff and a guidance counselor, so if you know any adults – "

"Is this really," Fig squeezed out, face almost purple with the effort of speaking, laughing, and taking in oxygen. "I would think you would post this in the newspaper or something." By now the student population had realized where the real action was and were already waiting for one of the goofball freshmen to speak up.

"You're asking me if I know any…?" Gorgug trailed off, confused. Fabian reared up to his full height, sank his weight onto his back foot, and began another hearty round of applause. As soon as he raised his hands for the first clap their peers roared in approval, and a thunderous ovation echoed across the green. Goldenhoard stared with hard eyes over the assembly, silently admitting defeat.

"Okay, okay," he finally drawled. The students stopped clapping, a feeling of good sport rising from the once somber crowd.

"Goldenrod is falling apart," Fig whispered with delight. No one bothered to correct her on their new principle's name. If Riz was going to be The Ball, then he could be Goldenrod.

"We will also be introducing a new system for safety purposes. Please give a warm round of applause for one of our very own seniors and head of the A.V. club, Mr. Biz Glitterdew!" A round of polite clapping and a screech from the mic echoed before a chubby pixie, maybe a foot and a half tall at best, fluttered to the lectern. His swept-back red hair was as bright as Kristen's. Normally, an eighteen-year-old with braces, an eight-bit pixel butterfly T-shirt, and glasses thicker than his biceps would not be cool. This was a very normal circumstance.

"Uh, hey guys," the pixie began in a tiny, high-pitched nasal whine. "Wow, super excited to be addressing the school. A.V. club spends a lot of time behind the scenes," he dipped to the left and crossed his arms in an **X** as if that was somehow cool. "So you can imagine how excited I am to, ah, come up here and shoot the breeze with the number one student body in Elmville." Biz flashed a set of crossed peace signs. Adaine felt a little better about her own social standing.

"Woo!" Riz hollered, smiling widely. Biz looked straight at Riz and smiled even wider. _Nerd romance_ Adaine teased in her head. Machaira snorted, tail sweeping over the grass with a soft rustle.

"Yeah, this guy gets it," Biz pointed straight at Riz. "Yeah, alright!"

"The Ball, come on, please don't encourage this," Fabian implored. The group snickered as Biz moved on.

"So basically, we're gonna be taking a lot of dream crystals, and we're gonna be putting them up over the school. These are just basically gonna be recording clairaudience and clairvoyance information, so just sound and picture." Riz immediately frowned.

"What?" Fig muttered, jaw dropping as Biz elaborated.

"It's basically just a security system, so we're gonna be able to see what's going on at the school, so this kind of stuff doesn't happen again.

"Boo," Riz shouted, ducking his head to try and hide.

"Wow, Riz, you really turned on him," Kristen rebuked.

"Yeah, come one, The Ball, pick a side," Fabian chastised, going back on his statement from eight seconds ago. A lanky drow kid in the back of the crowd on the opposite side of the lawn, maybe a junior or a senior, put his hands to his mouth and heckled Biz.

"Police state! Fucking police state!"

"Panopticon," Fig agreed. The drow turned to Fig, snapped his fingers, and pointed at the tiefling.

"That! Fuck yeah!"

"Yeah, dude." Fig and the drow fed into each other, riling the other students between them.

"It's okay," Biz promised. "I see that we're having some, uh, ah, uh, negative reactions. That's understandable. Actually, guys, it's super cool, and if you're interested in learning how it works – " Fabian tried to work up a third round of sarcastic applause, but with such a controversial topic the other students didn't seem keen on joining in, unsure if this was genuine or not. The fighter quickly stopped and turned away from the lectern, trying to feign disinterest. Machaira chuckled. Adaine raised her hand.

"I have a question." She asked in her best crisp and clear diplomat's daughter voice.

"Yeah, a question!" Biz repeated enthusiastically. Adaine internally shuddered at the excitement in his eyes.

"Is it true that these crystals can be magically manipulated?" Biz briefly froze, taken aback. Adaine could see Machaira watching her out of the corner of her eye and glanced over. Machaira was studying Adaine with a weird look, pleased but curious, like she was watching a play and couldn't guess the next plot twist. Adaine felt her face heat a degree.

"Oh, dream crystals are extremely complicated pieces of arcana tech, but they are…" He drifted off, trying to cross his hands in that 'cool' **X** again but too distracted by her question to quite manage it. "A very skilled or proficient technician – "

"So perhaps a member of the faculty." Adaine did not phrase it as a question. The crowd murmured, unease spreading. If she didn't have her friends around her, Adaine never would have dared ask this in front of the school. Riz frowned at her. For a moment, the two shared an understanding, the implications of this information racing through the planners' brains.

"Huh?" Biz asked, all insinuations flying over his tiny head. Gorgug frowned, just starting to catch on.

"Why is that – " Fig began.

"Why don't we have this conversation with him later?" Riz suggested.

"Yeah." Everyone agreed at once.

"Alright!" Biz shouted, trying to sound more pepped than confused. "This seems more complicated than I was ready for, and I'm not prepared. So we're gonna leave it there." More cackling broke out from their party. "Let's gooooooo Owlbears! HOOT!" Biz pointed at the audience.

"GROWL!" Adaine and her friends led the chant, having fully dominated the assembly to the point that the other students were waiting for them to go first.

"HOOT!"

"GROWL!"

"HOOT!"

"GROWL!" Biz's face lit up, psyched that he actually got that to work.

"It's weird that we say growl instead of actually growling," Fig offered, lighting up a cigarette as Biz flew off.

"Growl," Gorgug called, quickly snapping his mouth shut when he realized no one else was still chanting. Machaira gave him a conciliatory slap on the back. The bell rang, and with no time to make further plans the group agreed to meet during second period, which everyone had free. Adaine thought that as the only wizard in the group she would be alone for her classes, but as it turned out she and Machaira had both elected to take a first period insight class. On their way, Adaine asked Machaira about her other classes. To her surprise, Machaira was not a fighter but a niche form of rogue called a scout that depended on outmaneuvering opponents at close range. The parallels Machaira drew between a hunter and a rogue were interesting, but Machaira was much more inclined to learn about Adaine's divination magic. It was one of the few things her family had pushed on her that Adaine both liked and performed well in, so she was rather enthusiastic about it.

They arrived shortly before the starting bell, and a majority of the seats were taken. Most of the other students were wizards with a good number of sorcerers and one or two other suspicious-looking rogues. Adaine and Machaira found a pair of seats in the back of the room and sat down. People muttered and glared as they passed, but after what happened yesterday Adaine didn't really blame them. All the same, she was glad to have Machaira with her. Adaine decided that the anonymity of sitting in the back outweighed the benefits of being close to the teacher, especially since the room angled down toward the front and middle in a semi-circle like a mini-lecture hall, making it easy to see the board on all sides. As class began, Adaine began relax. No blood, no fighting, no family. Just a classroom, a book, and a teacher. This was familiar. Not fun, but comfortable.

The instructor stressed that this class was largely about developing their ability to perceive the world around them and to interpret people and magical items. Adaine took note of what he said but refrained from class discussions in favor of analyzing the teacher and students participating. A small, smug part of her felt that was a better application of the material. All during class Adaine wondered if this was the teacher who had helped turn her into a killer, but the duergar instructor was inscrutable.

Machaira spent almost the entire class scribbling down notes. The tabaxi freely participated in every activity and seemed to have a decent grasp of the material. But Adaine noticed that, despite spending almost twice the time writing that Adaine did, Machaira barely had half her number of notes. Machaira's handwriting was also rather crude, large letters with shaky lines that seemed almost childish. Eventually Machaira saw Adaine looking at her notes. As soon as those bright yellow eyes met hers, Machaira's ears went down and her tail banged against the desks, startling several students. After that the rogue refused to look at her, shoulders hunched inward, hands in her lap. Adaine wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the words before the bell rang and Machaira stuffed her books away, muttering something about finding the rest of their party. Adaine made a mental note to speak with her latter and followed.

They found the others almost immediately. Fig immediately professed a suspicion in the barbarian teacher Porter, but no one else seemed to share her misgivings. Riz claimed Porter hadn't messed with the crime scene, and Machaira pointed out that people dying was a part of the school.

"But more pressing," Riz asserted. "There's a dude named Johnny Spells, and he's rad as hell, and he rides a motorcycle, and he's a tiefling, and he's got – "

"Sorry, what?" Fig interrupted, staring intently at Riz. Riz froze and started again faster.

"He rides. He's this dude. He's rad. He rides a motorcycle. He's got these magic powers, and he drives around on his motorcycle – "

"So, he looked, like, virile?" Fig asked, priorities clear as her gaze darkened.

"Yeah, he definitely fucks," Riz admitted.

"What?" Adaine asked, unsure how this was important.

"He definitely fucks," Riz repeated louder. "He rules." The whole group began to talk over him. "He rules, but I think he's, I think he's like a guy! Okay, look – "

"Sounds terrible," Adaine began sarcastically.

"Look, there is, okay, one of the popular girls is out there waiting in the parking lot, and I think something might happen to her if somebody doesn't get there soon." Riz rushed. Ah, okay. Johnny Spells was a guy who looked cool and creeped on girls and might be after a girl on campus_. Amazing how easy that could have been to say_, Adaine thought wryly, rubbing her temples. These were good people, but communication was not their strong suit.

"Should we all go to the parking lot?" Gorgug asked.

"Well I'm going to go to the library, and I'm gonna find out about the faculty because I don't trust these people." Adaine declared. While she'd had this plan for a while, she really didn't want to run into any more of the popular crowd until she found a way to ditch the stupid orb, which Machaira was still carrying for her.

"I'm telling you, Porter – " Fig tried to insist.

"I'm gonna go to the library too 'cause I'm gonna get some books," Kristen interrupted.

"I'll roll with The Ball," Fabian announced with a grin. Machaira chuckled and nodded appreciatively.

"Library for me," Machaira voted. "I stick out too much for the parking lot. Plus, I have some study time blocked off this afternoon, and I want to know where the books I'll need are now so I don't waste time then."

"I'll come out to the parking lot with you," Fig offered, smirking at Riz.

"I kind of…" Gorgug sighed. "I don't want to go to the library. But I don't want to do the other thing, so I might just sit here." Everyone laughed, Machaira clapping Gorgug on the back.

"Where is – what's her name?" Fig asked.

"Penelope," Riz replied. Adaine immediately knew she had made the right choice.

"Where is Penelope?"

"She's in the parking lot."

"Is she like sitting on a bench or anything?"

"She's standing there waiting for something, so…" Riz trailed off, uncertain.

"Alright, I'll go outside," Gorgug decided.

"How do you want to handle this, The Ball?" Fabian asked.

"I've got an idea." Those words had yet to yield results from Fig. "Well, do we want to kind of try and – "

"We want to see what's going on," Riz explained. "If you want to pretend to be her friend or something and see what's going on with her…"

"I can do you one better." Fig's smile seemed like a bad omen.

"Well, what's that?" Riz frowned

"Are you gonna become Johnny Spells?" Kristen asked.

"No, I wasn't gonna do that." Fig's expression said that she really wanted to do that now. "I was gonna pretend to be blind and stand next to her."

"Whoa." Gorgug grinned.

"Oh brother," Fabian muttered. Kristen parroted him.

"Why don't you just talk to her," Riz almost begged. "You're a cool girl, she's a cool girl." Fig flashed a bright smile. "Just go talk to her like a person!" The smile slipped as fast as it came.

"I don't know if I can go back into that life," she protested, crossing her arms.

"The life of not pretending to be blind?" Machaira asked.

"From yesterday?" Gorgug added.

"No, I'm saying, like, the, that life of…she's a different type of person."

"Okay, she might be kidnapped right now," Riz countered, spreading his arms. "So I'm gonna go."

"Okay, I'm coming; I'm coming; I'm coming. I'm coming." Fig assured him. The group split up again. Adaine didn't particularly want to hear any more about Helio, but it didn't seem like Kristen wanted to talk about her god at the moment. Machaira either didn't hold a grudge from her previous spats with the cleric or decided that it wasn't worth being prickly over and remained perfectly polite. Adaine had hoped to talk to Machaira about her sudden embarrassment but decided to table it for latter. Upon entering the library Adaine almost immediately located the librarian, Mrs. Dimweather.

"Excuse me," Adaine asked. "Are there any books on maybe the history of the school and also current faculty members?" Mrs. Dimweather turned to her, a stack of books in her hand. To Adaine's relief, the librarian didn't recognize her as yesterday's book thief.

"The history of the school or current faculty members?" The old woman repeated slowly.

"Files or anything we might be able to read?" Adaine elaborated. "We're just new to the school, and we want to find out about – we love this school so much." Machaira gave about as friendly a smile as she could manage around her fangs. Kristen nodded jerkily and hummed, eyes too wide to be convincing.

"Yeah, the more you know," the cleric added, voice shaking. Ok, so Kristen was great at healing and awful at lying. Good to know. Fortunately, the old librarian was not suspicious.

"And any other books while we're at it?"

"Uh, yeah, there was a big, um, deadly tsunami on the island of Fallinel," Kristen began.

"Oh no," the librarian murmured. Adaine vaguely remembered hearing about that.

"And I just want to read about the history of that," Kristen finished quietly. "And I'm just kind of obsessed with why bad things happen to good people, because I never really…I got to meet god, and he just refused to answer that question." Her voice wavered. Machaira stared at Kristen with something that might have been pity. "So I'm just gonna do a little reading on my own." The librarian took a minute to respond.

"Alright…okay."

"Aguefort was in my backpack, but I was cool about it." Kristen added.

"Oh, and if you have anything on the – are there any news reports on what happened to the Elven Oracle who's ship collided – "

"Newspapers and periodicals?"

"Yes." All three girls confirmed.

"This is a school library, but if you want to have – "

"You don't have a newspaper at the school library?" Adaine frowned. She had hoped to be free from her dependence on her father for news.

"Well we have a school newspaper, but we wouldn't have any information about shipwrecks. You're welcome to – I can write a pass for you to go to City Hall and requisition a microfiche."

"Uh, maybe later. Just the other books for now." Adaine declined. She would have to find another solution for that problem.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I almost forgot," Machaira said suddenly, digging a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. "I have the names of a few books that were recommended for my classes. Could you help me find any of these?" Machaira proffered the slip of paper. Mrs. Dimweather stared at her hand, tough grey palms flecked with callouses and cuts, and stiffened.

"I believe that if you use the laminated guide posted at the front desk, you can follow our labeling system to find those books." Her old, creaky voice had somehow become severe. For an instant, Adaine saw her mother in place of the old librarian, staring down her nose at Machaira. The tabaxi did not react save to quietly thank her.

Mrs. Dimweather shuffled off to find their books, and Machaira moved to the front desk to inspect the sign explaining how books were organized in the library. Adaine wanted to fume over how she had been treated, but Kristen didn't seem to recognize what had happened. Machaira didn't say anything, but her tail flicked low between her legs. Adaine resolved once more to make time for her friend. Mrs. Dimweather returned a few minutes later with a small stack of books.

"These are the books I was able to find. This has some about the founding of the school," Mrs. Dimweather handed Adaine a textbook. "The Eons of Solace, which is a tome referencing the history of the nation of Solace." She handed the worn, chunky book to Kristen. "I couldn't find anything about the full faculty, but the only book I could find that sort of fit that was an autobiography of Arthur Aguefort – _Abra Kadabra: Look at Me Now, My Life in Magic_." She handed Adaine a book with a glossy headshot of Arthur Aguefort posed as if flamenco dancing on the cover. A tell all memoir, perhaps?

"Woo hoo!" Adaine cheered a bit, taking the book with a grin. Jackpot.

"This is from the restricted section, but not because it had dark magic. It's just pretty spicy." Adaine's grin fell a bit while Machaira smiled with sudden interest, ears and tail perking. "And this is a people's history of Fallinel." Kristen accepted the last and largest book. "It's, um, basically a history of the elven continent written from the perspective of dispossessed peoples and the marginalized, so it's sort of a, ah, contrasting point of view to some of the more documented histories. There's a lot information about, kind of, grain and economy." Kristen hummed. "It's pretty dense. A lot of people hit that, sort of first year of college."

"This will help in my search for deep answers." Kristen's voice was so quiet Adaine wasn't sure if the statement was a question or confirmation.

"Yes, it should." The librarian took it as confirmation. "If you really crack in there you'll find some… you'll find it. Hopefully that was helpful. Thank you." Mrs. Dimweather fluttered her fingers in what could have passed for a wave and returned to stacking books. Kristen asked if they should start reading now, but Adaine and Machaira voted to go to the parking lot and see how the others were doing. On their way there, people kept muttering around them. Only now, Adaine realized that they were not talking about the corn monster. They were heckling Machaira.

"Get your tail outta my way!"

"Thief!"

"Heard she nearly killed a guy yesterday. Crazy animal."

Machaira never responded to the comments, but her shoulders rolled inward a little as more people yelled at her. Head down, ears flat, tail low between her legs, Machaira simply refused to acknowledge them. Adaine moved forward to look her in the face. Yellow eyes simmered over clenched jaws, but there was something else in the tabaxi's expression that felt so wrong and so very familiar. Before Adaine could put her finger on it, a louder voice made itself heard.

"I have a Siamese at home, you want his number?" Called a bigger human, longsword over his back.

"Go fuck yourself," Adaine retorted.

"How would your cat even pick up the crystal?" Kristen didn't quite understand how to speak asshole yet.

"Guys, leave it," Machaira muttered.

"He's being really mean to you." Adaine protested.

"And he's not the only one," Kristen added.

"I know, but it's about the same everywhere," Machaira said, sounding far too tired. "People don't like tabaxi. To be fair, I don't like most other tabaxi." Adaine tried to protest, but Machaira cut her off. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not worth it, ok?" Adaine stumbled, staring at Machaira. She HAD to have a talk with her friend today.

Adaine was trying to find the right words when they walked out into the parking lot to see Riz standing in Fabian's backpack, both covered in vomit. Fabian and Riz were yelling at the top of their lungs. Riz's clothes, also covered in vomit, lay in a pile on the ground. In their place the goblin had donned a toga made from the lower half of Gorgug's shirt. The very revealing change in clothes showed that Riz had bruises all over his body. Gorgug, whose new impromptu crop top neither suited him nor seemed consensual, was crying, asking Fig 'why' over and over again. Fig had her flask in one hand and was almost in tears herself trying to apologize to the half-orc. Behind them, a car in the parking lot had a massive dent in it. The driver's side window had completely broken, showering the area with glass and adding a blaring car alarm to the jumble of noise.

"Oh dear," Adaine said quietly, nerves skyrocketing, and instinctively scooted a pace closer to Machaira. Machaira's tail flicked up to barely brush against her back before she moved closer to the chaos, the rogue's own distress seemingly forgotten in the face of this new insanity.

"Hey, how'd it go?" Kristen asked. Adaine mentally face-palmed.

"Oh, fine, it was wonderful," Fabian said, actually voicing his sarcasm.

"Good, in some ways," Fig promised.

"Like, we had it," Fabian swore, pointing between himself and Fig.

"Can you use mend?" A dejected Gorgug pleaded, pinching the bottom of his shirt. Adaine immediately mended Gorgug's shirt, leaving an unfortunately naked Riz to duck back into an unfortunate Fabian's backpack. Adaine quickly siphoned the vomit off of Riz's original clothes and the backpack. Machaira, the only member of the group who seemed entirely unperturbed by Riz's sudden nudity, shoved his clothes into the backpack for him to change while the others calmed down a little.

"Thank you," Riz said, climbing out. "We are already not very popular. I just joined the A.V. club. He – "

"You joined the A.V. club?" Kristen asked, voice rising in disbelief.

"I had to," Riz lamented.

"For all intents and purposes, we socially murdered you," Fabian informed Gorgug.

"We socially murdered you," Fig parroted.

"Why?" Gorgug wailed. The look of betrayal on his face was heartbreaking. Fig put a hand on his arm.

"And I'm really sorry!"

"Why?"

"But it's good because now we're in with her," Fig insisted.

"So good. So good," Fabian assured him. Adaine guessed they meant Penelope. Uhg.

"But that's not good for me," Gorgug complained. The berserker deflated.

"But you weren't…" Fabian stuttered. "Like, you weren't gonna fucking climb very high in the first place. Let's be honest." Fig repeated the last part, but Machaira only slapped Fabian over the back of the head.

"Alright, alright," Riz held up his hands. "Gorgug and I will 'play the nerds' if it means we can solve this mystery."

"I don't think you needed the air quotes." Machaira commented dryly.

"Okay, 'play the nerds', sure," Fabian agreed, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, but – " Fig began.

"We might have to act like we're unpopular, but – "

"Can I join the A.V. club, I guess?" Gorgug interrupted Riz's interruption, par for this group's course.

"Yeah." Riz smiled at him.

"Oh, if you guys are looking for a club, I actually run the Fellowship of Helioic Athletes." Everyone else groaned, and Machaira's tail snapped about, forcing Riz to take cover.

"I found some books." Adaine mentally predicted this had a 50/50 chance of steering the conversation somewhere productive. Fig took a sip from her flask, then froze and stared at it like she had spiked it and forgotten somehow.

"What kind of books?" Riz asked.

"What books did you find?" Fabian reiterated.

"There's a book about the history of the school and then there's professor Aguefort's Autobiography, which apparently is a little spicy." Adaine's voice trailed off a bit on the last part. Once more, Machaira flashed a grin that in no way helped Adaine feel more comfortable about the book. "But I don't quite know what that means."

"Yeah, it was in the restricted section," Kristen added.

"I bet he, um…" Gorgug began.

"Fucks," Fig offered.

"I bet he fucks," Fabian agreed. Machaira snorted.

"Speaking of people who fuck, Johnny Spells doesn't fuck." Fig informed them.

"Yeah, that was actually crazy," Fabian admitted.

"Johnny Spells doesn't fuck?" Gorgug asked.

"Johnny Spells does not fuck, supposedly." Fabian confirmed. Dear god, why were all of her friends so horny?

"That's – that's what you found out?" Adaine asked. "This guy doesn't fuck?"

"Maybe he's saving himself for marriage?" Kristen asked, staring dreamily into the sky.

"Well if these people are disappearing, and he has something to do with it, maybe…" Riz began.

"Where is he?" Gorgug asked.

"I'm saying a man who – " Fig began, smirking around her cigarette.

"Maybe he thinks that if he waits, then that night…" Kristen smiled, shaking her head. Machaira made a spitting sound in the back of her throat. "Then you've waited so long."

"Oh my god," Fabian groaned.

"Kristen, your pants are bunching up in the weirdest way." Fig noticed. Machaira took a deep breath and spoke up.

"If Johnny Spells doesn't want to fuck, his minor loss. Let's review what we know about finding this guy…" She frowned. "We're running off a hunch that this guy is dirty, right?" The other party members murmured assents. "Ok, great. Let's try not to kill him immediately then." Machaira turned to Kristen, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it with a sigh and looked away.

"Agreed," Riz said.

"Guys, meet at Krom's diner after school." Murmurs of agreement floated around. Gorgug proposed the problem of transportation, but Riz had other ideas.

"Can we talk to one person before we leave?" Riz asked.

"We still have lunch and four more periods to go," Machaira said. "I would hope so."

"Oh shit," Fig started to cackle. "We have five hours until school ends, and I put a Friends cantrip on my last flask. I am so screwed; there is no way I'm not going to dose myself again."

"That's for sure not how a Friends cantrip works," Adaine told her.

"Yeah, but I did it anyway because it was cool," Fig giggled.

"Yes, she did." Fabian confirmed. "Honestly, when she isn't unconscious or pretending to be blind or flirting with the faculty, Fig is kind of amazing. But who did you want to talk to, The Ball?"

"There's this dwarf who went on a little spy mission for me yesterday, much like you guys just did. It's sort of a pattern of behavior for me."

"You're not the boss of this group." Adaine immediately shot him down. Riz was smart, but there was no way she was going to let him think he could tell her what to do.

"Yeah," Fig and Kristen agreed.

"You don't want to get to – " Riz began.

"Four minutes ago you were naked and covered in vomit in a backpack that you threw up in," Machaira pointed out. "That's not the kind of situation that screams 'leader'."

"Don't we want to know where these missing people are?" Riz yelled.

"Yeah, but you can't slip into a de facto leader role," Fabian said imperiously, waving a hand at the goblin.

"I'm not saying – "

"That's so weird," Kristen spoke over Riz.

"You seem to be saying – " Gorgug began.

"I was outvoted last time, and I was right," Riz reminded them, spreading his arms.

"Still being spiteful," Machaira noted.

"Here, how about you go talk to your dwarf girl, and we'll go do whatever the fuck we want?" Fabian countered, gesturing to the rest of the group.

"I think we were," Fig cut off, grinning around her cigarette. Apparently she had already forgotten about the Friends spell on her flask. "I think talking to Goldenrod worked out."

"It was great." Kristen added.

"I agree." Fabian said. He seemed to have warmed up to Fig somewhere amid the lying and the vomiting.

"Well you wanna go talk to – alright," Gorgug stammered to Riz.

"I just wanna find out what happened," Riz sighed.

"By yourself or with your new A.V. club member?" Kristen asked.

"I said anybody can come." Adaine was pretty sure he hadn't said that yet.

"I'll go," Gorgug confirmed. In the end everyone agreed to go. Adaine was a little worried about finding this girl and making it to their next class on time, but she was easy to find. A young dwarven girl lay on a bed in the nurse's office, fists balled, drooling, one eye held in a squint, weakly moaning on each exhalation. The school nurse tended to her on the far side of the bed. On the near side a shabby, poor dwarf sat wringing his hands, his thick jacket and boots heavily worn. Adaine remembered that the school offered free medical services to all its students, but she had never considered actually needing to use it. The nurse, Fatima, frowned and approached the group.

"Hey, are you guys all sick? Anything from yesterday?"

"We were just checking on our friend." Riz said. "Is she okay? What happened to her?"

"You know Ostentatia?" Fatima glanced about the group.

"Yes." The nurse led them over to her bedside. Adaine noticed that Ostentatia was covered in jewelry while her father was every bit the classic working-class dwarf. The older dwarf held his daughter's hand, muttering over her bedside.

"Anything. Anything for my baby. I'll give you anything, sweetheart. Yeah, I'd get anything for you." He looked up, only now noticing the seven of them. "Riz?" He asked, looking from one face to another. "Riz? One of you is Riz?"

"The Ball, yeah," Fabian drawled, pointing at Riz.

"My name is Ball," Riz covered, voice shaking. "What's up with Riz?" Ostentatia's dad reached into one of her balled fists and gently teased out a piece of paper with dwarven runes on it. The seven glanced at each other uncertainly. After a moment Adaine stepped forward to take the paper. She didn't speak Dwarven, but it was clear no one else did either. While the others talked, Adaine ritual cast comprehend languages.

"She just…" The old dwarf murmured. "She got knocked out. Last night, she…" He trailed off into disbelieving stutters.

"At school or after school?" Riz asked.

"No! She came home, made a cup of tea, and then, you know, went to her room. I came in, and she had fallen down. She was whispering an' acting crazy. It was like she had hit her head on her desk. She had fallen, but she wrote out a note real quick, and she said "Riz" a couple times."

"So somebody cast a spell on her?" Riz asked.

"No," Fatima said. "It's some form of poison, we think. Which is unusual. Very powerful poison to affect a dwarf at all."

"I know it doesn't help," Machaira told the older dwarf, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I'm sorry. If there's anything we can do for you or Ostentatia, don't hesitate to ask." Her voice was as thick with sympathy as it had been yesterday. And just like yesterday, Adaine had a strong sense that her friend had experience with death. Ostentatia's father also seemed to sense the sincerity in the tabaxi.

"Thank ye," he muttered. Adaine's spell finished casting at that moment, and the note became more or less legible.

"Um, so this says…" Adaine suddenly realized that they didn't need anyone else to hear this.

"We should go," Riz said. Agreements floated from around the room.

"Let's go," Adaine agreed. "Let's go…somewhere else."

"Let's go get flowers for Ostentatia," Kristen suggested.

"That's a great idea," Adaine agreed, smiling at Kristen.

"Let's go get flowers for our friend, Ostentatia," Fabian echoed.

"I have a flower," Gorgug said, offering her dad his tin flower.

"Oh, let's go get more of them, though," Kristen insisted.

"Can I just give her this flower right now?" Gorgug asked.

"No, of course, that's fine," Fig assured him. Kristen cast glow on the flower.

"Ah, she'll love that," the father murmured. "Thanks, kid. I appreciate that." He took the flower and tucked it into the corner of one of her necklaces. He patted his daughter's head, but Ostentatia only groaned weakly, breath gurgling from her throat.

"Um, is she gonna be okay?" Riz asked. Fatima pursed her lips and gave him a hard stare.

"Sweetie, you wanna ask me that right in front of her dad?" Riz stared at the ground.

"I didn't – "

"Why don't you guys go get some flowers, huh?" The nurse asked pointedly. They all murmured agreements. When they had managed to slip outside, Adaine translated the note. Riz's name was indeed on it multiple times, but there were four other more confusing words.

"Okay, so, I mean I think her spelling is pretty bad, or maybe it's just my-my dwarven isn't good enough, but, ah, it says 'Penny', but spelled P-E-N-Y, and then 'Johnny', I think, but J-H-N-Y. And then 'crystal'…but crystal is spelled…"

"Stop, ab, uh, dub, ah, eh, ub," Fabian dissolved into stuttering. "Don't spell it. What does it say?" Adaine glared at him but relented.

"Penny, Johnny, Crystal, Palympsis," Adaine summarized. "Do you know what a palympsis is? I know a palimpsest is a grave without a body in it. But it's not spelled like this."

"How is it spelled?" Kristen asked.

"P-A-L-Y-M-P-S-I-S," Adaine spelled.

"It couldn't be Penelope, could it?" Fig asked.

"I don't think so," Adaine responded. "It says palympsis."

"What was that other word?"

"Crystal. Penny, Johnny, crystal, palympsis."

"Was crystal the name of the other…" Riz trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. "None of the missing girls are named crystal."

"I think crystals are the things that were installed." Fig said.

"Or a phone," Kristen suggested.

"It might also be a name," Fabian proposed.

"It looks like a name," Adaine agreed. "But all of the other spelling is so bad that I don't know."

"Just gonna say, if you look at the first," Fig stammered, writing the four words down on a notepad. "If Penny and Johnny, the words that are missing are 'N' and 'O'." Riz cleared his throat and pointed at a crystal camera above them.

"Let's get out of the school." He suggested.

"Or let's finish our first day of classes and discuss this at Krom's diner later," Machaira countered. After more of the usual bickering everyone agreed and separated to attend their third period class. Adaine had barely sat down when a voice behind her spoke up.

"Oh my god, are you from Mumple?" Somehow knowing that was directed at her, Adaine turned to see a human girl behind her wearing a pink cardigan over a band T-shirt and creased brown skirt. Her blond hair hung straight down but had clearly been professionally styled sometime in the past few days. The strap on her bag had a big owlbear sticker from some extracurricular club. Adaine's heart sank in her throat. Everything about this girl screamed popular clique, from her silver rune bracelets to the pair of giggling lackeys behind her to the cold shark-eyes over a perfect smile.

"How did a Mumple girl sneak into this school?" The girl asked aloud. A few heads turned to look over. One of her lackeys giggled.

"Uh, the better question, Lindsey, is why a Mumple girl thinks she could pass this class." The trio laughed, future Penelope Everpetal's in the making

"No, I'm not." Adaine said. Her voice was already beginning to crack. "I'm, I'm not from Mumple. I'm here from Hudol." Lindsey looked her up and down, smile widening as she smelled blood in the social waters.

"Uh, that's, like, not a Hudol uniform." Lindsey said, staring down at Adaine.

"No, it, it's not, it's not a Hudol uniform," Adaine stammered.

"So you're, like, a fucking liar," Lindsey said, curling her lip and holding up a finger.

"I'm, I'm not a, I'm not a li – "

"Uh, yes, you fucking are," Lindsey talked over her. "You just fucking lied to my face: again!"

"It's, it's just what I wear," Adaine whispered, hating how small she felt. "I did transfer from Hudol, but this isn't, it's not – "

"So you failed out? Is that what you're trying to say, liar?"

"No, I, I – " Everyone was staring at them. Why did everyone have to stare? Oh god she didn't know any of these people, but some of them knew Lindsey. Lindsey was standing, and she was sitting, and that made Lindsey look so much taller. But if Adaine stood up she'd have to actually challenge her somehow, and she just couldn't –

"I bet that's not even a real crystal ball. Do you just carry that around to get people to stare at you like a little freak?"

"No, my father gave it to me, and I don't – "

"Yeah, right," Lindsey pretended to sneer, but Adaine could see her glee at an easy target. "I bet – "

"That's enough students, settle down," The old dwarven teacher said in that no-nonsense teacher tone, striding to the front of the room and preparing her lecture notes. "Everyone take your seats. I will have no talking in my class." Adaine turned away from Lindsey and stared at her desk, breaths coming fast and shallow, chest too tight for comfort. Had that gone on any longer, there was no way she would have been able to stave off a panic attack.

Adaine had never been popular, but she understood how the social hierarchy worked. For Lindsey to stay on top of the social food chain this early in her first year, she had to make examples. Adaine was an obvious target. The teacher made it clear her class was to be a no talking/all listening class, but Adaine could hear the girls whispering behind her. Somehow they figured out her name during class. Their giggles confirmed what Adaine already knew. They were going to keep harassing her every chance they got. Adaine wished one of her friends were here with her, but no one in this class was familiar.

When the bell rang, Adaine rushed out. Another sign of weakness. She spent her fourth period alone and miserable, head down to avoid eye contact, but even then she could still hear people whispering about her uniform and the stupid fucking orb. She was anxious to see the rest of her friends during lunch. As loud and unorganized as her party was, they offered at least a degree of safety. She found the others in the cafeteria almost immediately. Everyone felt uneasy about being here again and had chosen the table closest to the door, one no one had tripped over. When Adaine saw students walking around a red stain on the floor cordoned off with police tape, she immediately felt sick. Instinctively she sought out Machaira, but the tabaxi was noticeably absent.

When Adaine asked, Kristen and Fig each tried to tell the same story simultaneously as both had been present. Apparently during the break between third and fourth period, Ragh Barkrock had rushed Machaira, smashed her into a rack of lockers, and called her a dumb cat. Machaira had leapt on Ragh, and the two had fought up and down the hallway. At the end of it Ragh had broken Machaira's leg in two places and crushed four of her ribs, but Machaira had clawed Ragh so badly the half-orc had collapsed to the ground crying. Kristen had almost thrown up when she realized that she could see furrows in Ragh's skull.

Both had received magical healing and a detention from Goldenhoard. Machaira had requested to serve her detention during lunch, and Goldenhoard agreed that was a reasonable request from the victim of the attack. Since the fight didn't have a clear winner, and Machaira was a third Ragh's size, news of it had spread through the school like wildfire. Fabian made it clear that Ragh could not be allowed to bully their teammate and expressed hope that if he straight up beat Ragh it would cement his reputation in school.

While Adaine was happy that her new friend would be okay, she missed her company. Adaine was on her way to considering these people her friends, but she definitely felt more at ease with the feisty tabaxi. She certainly wasn't fully comfortable telling the others about her new bully. After lunch, Adaine made her way to the library to start on homework and research what a palympsis was. The last two periods of the Aguefort school day were divided into two time blocks to develop class skills. Fighters, paladins, berserkers, and the like had physical fitness and weapons training. Druids and clerics had meditative periods where they learned to commune with beings in other planes. Bards jammed out. Wizards and sorcerers had study time. Students could spend these periods in most parts of the school, but they could not travel the halls during them.

As Adaine settled down at a dim little table in the back of the library under the second-floor balcony, she heard an all-too familiar giggle. Sure enough, Lindsey and her posse rounded the corner and almost at once set their eyes on Adaine at her little corner table. Adaine mentally shrank as they approached.

"What are you reading, bitch?" Lindsey asked, roughly pulling Adaine's book away from her. "This doesn't look like what we did in class."

"No, it, it isn't." Adaine was already stammering. "I'm looking up my own thing."

"Uh, it's not your own thing if it's already in the book," Lindsey asserted, staring down at Adaine like she was an idiot. "Liar, again. Mumple girl probably can't remember what we just – "

"Girls," Mrs. Dimweather hushed, shuffling over. "This is a library. Please, be quiet and sit down. You are technically in class." Lindsey rolled her eyes and shot Adaine a look that said that there wouldn't always be a teacher around to protect her. She and her friends took over another table, close enough for Adaine to hear them but far enough away that if the librarian came up their teasing wouldn't be obvious. Adaine tried to focus on her homework, but she could still hear Lindsey and the others talking about her. Logically, she knew that these weren't people she cared about and that their opinions of her should not matter. But the fact that they would tell other people and those people would then judge her…

Adaine felt her chest constrict and her breathing grow quick again. She barely made any progress in her work. Her vision swam, and she began to hyperventilate. Her eyes began to burn. Adaine wasn't sure exactly how long she sat there, struggling to reign in her panic attack, when a familiar sound broke through the haze of anxiety and half-imagined stimuli. Looking up, Adaine saw Machaira stalking down the aisles, constantly looking between her crumpled piece of paper and the labels on the books, tail snapping like a whip behind her. She growled again, a deep, pensive sound. Adaine felt herself latch onto the noise, surprised at how familiar it felt to her already. Suddenly Machaira's whiskers twitched, and a pair of golden eyes swiveled to face her. Adaine felt a bit of pressure in her chest relax as Machaira beelined toward her, tail rising as she approached.

"Hey," Machaira said softly. The other girl was covered in flecks of mud and grass. Her jacket was torn in multiple places. A powerful smell rolled off of her, a mix of earth and plants and sunlight and seasoned meat and some warm, mild animal scent that was distinctly hers. It was so different from anything else in Adaine's prim, sterile upbringing. While not unpleasant, Machaira smelled strongly enough that she rapidly chased away the dust and perfume of the library.

The tabaxi hesitated for a brief moment, four small, conical teeth peeping out to worry her lip before she gave Adaine a one-arm hug. Machaira squeezed her tightly but left Adaine with enough room that she wasn't constrained. The soft, fluffy tail whisked up and tickled her face, drawing out a smile before it flicked away. Adaine could feel the steady beat of Machaira's heart, a calm, rhythmic pulse. The odor around Machaira briefly overpowered her senses, and Adaine felt herself swept away by the mosaic of images it conjured: sunlight and plants and running and warm, happy days. Machaira released her and sat on the edge of the table. Adaine could see in her eyes that Machaira knew she was having a panic attack, but there was no judgement there.

"Hi." Machaira spoke softly. "Sorry I missed you at lunch. I, uh, got detention again."

"I heard," Adaine's voice wasn't as crisp or clear as it normally was, but she didn't stutter. Machaira's gaze was almost inhumanly still. The tabaxi did not blink. Her expression and voice were gentle, soothing. Her posture was straight, confident. Her very presence almost siphoned Adaine's panic like some reverse black hole, all of the dark half-formed fears in Adaine's mind sucked away by Machaira's calm.

"Did Kristen tell you?" Machaira asked. Her eyes fairly glowed in the dim lighting. Adaine had dark vision, but she felt as if Machaira carried a piece of the sun in her stare.

"Kristen and Fig, at the same time, but not together," Adaine clarified. She could feel the tension in her chest ease as she spoke. It felt good to talk to her. Machaira's smile widened a little. Adaine wondered if the rogue ever felt constrained by the fangs framing her mouth or if they were as natural to her as Adaine's own teeth.

"Typical," Machaira chuffed, a soft _whoosh_ of air rising from her lungs in a deep, lazy growl bordering on a bark. Sitting on the table, Machaira was barely taller than Adaine. She was so small, but she exuded confidence, a friendliness that warmed something deep in Adaine. Feeling her attack melt away, Adaine smiled properly.

"Thank you." She said quietly.

"For what?" Machaira asked, tilting her head. Adaine snorted a little.

"You know." Machaira smirked.

"You never have to thank me for that." She waved a hand, retracting and sheathing her claws one by one so that her hand almost seemed to glitter. Adaine laughed a bit. Machaira shook out her mane and hopped down, claiming the seat across from Adaine.

"I thought you had physical training?" Adaine asked.

"Fifth period I have a fighter's class," Machaira informed her. "Since I'm going for the scout role, I need to be more proficient in straight fighting and dueling than other rogues. I'm actually in Fabian's class. Never tell him I said this because his ego is big enough as it is, but he's really good. I'm glad we have him on our side. But my last period is a choice between independent study and workshops. Apparently only rogues have their two study periods split like that, and I love it. Riz is taking a workshop on picking locks right now."

Adaine grinned, happy to see her friend in such a good mood, when she noticed Lindsey coming back with her posse. Adaine felt her chest tighten again. Machaira immediately responded, ratty ears focusing first on Adaine, then on the trio of girls that had walked up.

"You're that crazy cat bitch, right?" Lindsey asked, sinking back onto her back foot in a pose that showed off her perfectly smooth legs. Machaira leveled a stare at her, perfectly calm. "The one that got in that fight with Ragh?"

"Probably," Machaira answered, completely ignoring the sneer in Lindsey's voice.

"What do you mean, probably? Like, how you do not even know if that was you or not?" Lindsey's backup laughed.

"Ragh doesn't seem like he's smart enough to learn his lesson," Machaira responded smoothly. "He might have pissed off some other tabaxi, too."

"Uh, there's only one freaky little pussycat in this school, and it's you." Lindsey pulled a face, glossed lips shining florescent pink even in the poor lighting. Machaira's expression didn't waver. Adaine had had enough.

"Leave her alone." Lindsey turned to glare at her.

"Of course you would be friends with this stray," Lindsey sneered, turning back to Machaira. "You know this girl is a liar, right? Says she's from Hudol, but that's not a Hudol uniform. She's like some Mumple reject who just lied to my face in the middle of class. Oh, and she only hangs onto that orb to draw attention to herself." Adaine hated hearing this, but she felt less daunted with Machaira there.

"You had a class together?" Adaine could hear the timbre of Machaira's voice shift, like air pressure before a storm. One of Machaira's ears swiveled to face Adaine. Still, the rogue kept her face and voice calm.

"Uh, yeah, this little bitch just walked into my third period class and made an ass of herself in front of everybody." Lindsey said, her expression daring Machaira to question her. "She basically started crying in the middle of the room."

"Fabian told me you seemed upset during lunch," Machaira said calmly. Adaine pursed her lips and clenched her jaw, hating how pathetic she must seem to her new friend. Apparently her expression was enough of an answer because Machaira's eyes hardened, coals coming to life. Machaira looked back at Lindsey. Slowly, the tabaxi smiled.

"What's your name?"

"Uh, I'm Lindsey Longwater," Lindsey said, raising a trimmed eyebrow like she shouldn't need to answer that question.

"What are you studying?"

"Uh, excuse me?"

"What are you studying?" Machaira repeated. "Cleric, druid, wizard, sorcerer?" By now Adaine could hear the subtle shift in her words, the slight deepening in tone as each word took a hair longer to say, predatory rumble beginning to creep over her normally light voice. But Lindsey didn't pick up on it. Maybe she should have taken the insight elective.

"Uh, I'm a sorcerer. I don't have to study. I'm just naturally talented." Silver bracelets jangled as Lindsey put one arm in the air.

"Cool, sorcery is really funny," Machaira responded. Adaine could see that warmth in her eyes begin to simmer. The soft flick of Machaira's tail sounded at the edge of her hearing.

"Funny?" Lindsey asked, well and truly angry now as she pointed a jangly hand at Machaira. "You think sorcery is funny?"

"Yep." Adaine had a wonderful flashback. "Want to hear a sorcery joke?" Lindsey glared daggers at the unruffled cat.

"No, I don't want to hear your fucking lame-ass joke."

"Why did the sorcerer cross the room?"

"Uh, bitch, I just said – !" Lindsey broke off with a squeal so high pitched it was almost inaudible. She jerkily raised a hand to her neck and touched the thin red line there. In a distant part of the library an iron bolt struck something with a muted thud. Adaine stared, amazed. She hadn't even seen Machaira move for her weapon, but the tabaxi was already reloading her crossbow. The bolt clicked into place, and Machaira leveled it at Lindsey's eyes.

"To get far away from the rogue who doesn't like bitchy little sorcerers fucking with her friends." As she finished the joke, all pretense of friendliness burned away. Machaira's lips peeled back to slowly reveal the tips of curved teeth, her eyes blazing the way they did against the corn monsters. In that moment, Adaine knew Machaira would absolutely shoot Lindsey given half a reason. Some measure of faith in her friend said she wouldn't actually kill her, but Lindsey didn't seem so sure. The sorcerer tried to stammer out a rebuttal.

"Now." Machaira's voice deepened to a predatory growl, low enough that Adaine felt her organs shiver as the sound passed through. Machaira did not bother to stand, but in her case the position was a very intentional and effective power play. Lindsey took a slow step back before darting off, two lackeys quick on her heels. Machaira briefly smiled, eyes sparkling with triumph at the easy victory, but her expression faltered when she met Adaine's gaze.

"S-sorry," Machaira muttered, hastily putting her crossbow away.

"For what? That was awesome." Adaine said. Machaira's tail swished behind her, rustling in the quiet library.

"I just, I just, you were a little, I don't know, scared, or nervous with me yesterday," Machaira stammered. "I don't, didn't, didn't want to make you, you know…" Her ears flicked down. "Uncomfortable?" To be fair, Adaine had been all kinds of uncomfortable yesterday.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," Adaine told her. "I was being really rude. But what you did just now was awesome. It really was. I know I was kind of… all over the place yesterday. But I'm not opposed to violence. I did sign up for an adventuring school after all." Machaira relaxed, smiling again. She took out an old, battered textbook and a sheet of paper and began to write. Adaine returned to her studies, and for a while they worked in comfortable silence. Well, near silence.

Adaine noticed once more that Machaira wrote very slowly, her almost childish writing nearly illegible. Machaira also seemed to be struggling with her textbook. At first, Adaine thought her friend was trying to read around the marks in the second-hand tome. But then she heard Machaira reading in a whisper, struggling to sound out words and going back over paragraphs. The tabaxi made painfully slow progress on her assignment, head bent over the page and ears flat.

Again, Adaine found herself staring at Machaira's ears. Her right ear was almost a **U**, where the edges remained along the sides but the top and interior were largely gone save for two small triangles of skin, giving Adaine the image of a deep valley with a pair of small mountain peaks in the middle. Her left ear had been cut along a sloping line from the top of one side almost to the base of the other. A few smaller white lines traced the back of that ear. The back of her head and neck were covered in thick slash marks, though it was harder to see around the dense ruff of fur on the back of her neck when dry.

Machaira eventually sensed her watching and glanced up. The glow in her eyes dimmed. Machaira didn't try to hide her sloppy writing, but she did hunch over, tucking her muzzle down. Her tail whisked between the chair legs as her shoulders rolled inward. To Adaine, it was like watching her friend wither away, confidence bleeding out to uncertainty.

"Um, it's, uh, like I said yesterday," Machaira murmured. "I'm not a smart cat." She looked up at Adaine, teething her lip. She reached up and brushed a hand over her ears, her scars, her fangs. "I, uh, missed a few years of school. This is my first year back, not in Elmville, but back in school, in… a long time."

Machaira shrank further in on herself, tucking her muzzle into the top of her jacket. Her gaze flickered away from Adaine more and more. Machaira's normal aura of calm evaporated, fear and doubt creeping in. Golden eyes dulled with insecurities that were familiar to Adaine but looked fundamentally wrong in Machaira. It was as if someone had doused the passion that made Machaira who she was.

It suddenly clicked in Adaine's head that maybe her new friend wasn't just a little awkward, that she had her own insecurities like any other humanoid. Adaine blinked, taking a second to absorb that fact, before she reached out and took her hand. Machaira's palm was rough with callouses and scrapes. The back of her hand was covered in a haze of short, fine fur like her face, soft and warm to the touch. She had three digits to each finger, just like Adaine. Adaine smiled, trying to pour warmth into the expression the way Machaira had.

"Isn't that why we're in school, to learn?" Adaine reminded Machaira. The tabaxi blinked at her uncertainly. Adaine squeezed her hand. Hooked claws slid out of Machaira's fingers, an extra digit composed of thick keratin, pink nerves barely visible inside. She'd cleaned all traces of blood from her fight with Ragh. "Just because you're reading and writing need some work doesn't mean you're not smart. You have great insight into other people. Riz certainly can't say that. And you'll get better with this stuff the more you work on it. I'm certainly not going to judge you by it." Machaira muttered something under her breath to the effect of _Not as smart as you_.

"Damn straight," Adaine said in that same gentle tone. Her friend quirked a smile. "But just because I'm smarter doesn't mean I'll look down on you. You're like the coolest friend ever. And you're certainly smarter than most of our party."

She knew she wasn't as good at this as Machaira was. Her stomach was knotted and her chest tight, second guessing every word as she said it. But Machaira seemed to relax a little, uncoiling from her shrunken posture. Machaira squeezed her hand back, then noticed her claws and tried to sheathe them. Adaine could feel the hooks attempting to force their way back in against the pressure of Adaine's grip. On impulse, Adaine didn't let go, instead turning Machaira's hand over to better examine her claws. She knew the tabaxi could simply pull her hand free, but Machaira let her do it anyway.

"Machaira…" Adaine began slowly, determined to say this right. "Are you… embarrassed about me seeing the, uh, cat parts of you?" For a while, the rogue said nothing. Adaine worried she might not respond at all. Machaira stared at their conjoined hands, at her claws, and sighed.

"Everyone divides the world into people and beasts," she murmured. "The people who are enough like you to be trusted and respected, and the beasts who aren't. Sometimes humans say all non-humans are beasts. Sometimes elves say that elves of their own race are the only real people." Adaine winced at that example. "Some say all humanoids are people, or only members of their own race that look like them. But no matter who you talk to or how they draw the lines, everyone is either a person or a beast, never both." Adaine latched onto that phrasing, filing it away for later.

"I, I always end up the beast. Sometimes, I choose to be the beast. I would rather be the beast than fit some ideas about being a person. But normally people just look at me and…" Machaira trailed away. "If you try and fight every jackass, you _prove_ that you're just a beast. If you wait for them to start the fight, then you might get to choose how others see you. It's not worth responding to words with violence."

"But you used violence to help me," Adaine argued. Machaira slipped a smile.

"Yeah, but that was your fight," she retorted. "You're my friend. You don't need anyone to fight your battles for you, but I'll cheerfully do it anyway. It's easy to stand up for the people you care about. But it's different when it's just people being mean to me." Machaira finally looked up and met Adaine's gaze. Her eyes were filled with self-doubt and uncertainty that did not belong there. But there was a shaky determination there too, like she knew she had to say this.

"I acknowledge, embrace the beast inside me. But, even around other tabaxi, I have always been just the beast. And…no one wants to be friends with that. If I have to choose which you or the others see me as…" Machaira shivered. "I want to choose the one that doesn't scare you off." Her voice trailed away on the last part to a whisper, shoulders hunching again. Adaine kept her grip on Machaira's hand, studying the humanoid fingers and the long claws that emerged from them.

"Just show me Machaira then," she said at last. "Beast, person, whatever you want to call yourself… I like what I've seen so far. If this has been the real you – "

"Yes." Her reply was quiet but immediate, certain. Adaine squeezed her hand again.

"Then I've got a kick ass friend." Adaine smiled at the tabaxi. Slowly, as if unsure whether this was real, Machaira smiled back. Adaine watched the warmth slowly filter back into Machaira's eyes. She wondered if Machaira felt this sense of accomplishment when she comforted Adaine earlier.

"Thanks," Machaira muttered, pulling her hand away and brushing at her eyes with her jacket sleeve. They returned to their work, neither girl exactly comfortable but both significantly less uneasy. Toward the end of the period, Adaine got up to look for a dictionary, hoping to find even a simple definition of palympsis. As she walked away, Adaine noticed Lindsey and her gang glancing between her and Machaira. Suspicious, Adaine circled a few bookshelves and peeked around the corner to watch Lindsey from the other side. Lindsey was slowly creeping up on Machaira, hands raised to cast a spell once she was in range.

Oh, HELL no.

Adaine walked calmly forward, Ray of Sickness already at her fingertips. Lindsey doubled over almost at once, regurgitating school lunch all over the library. Her knees wobbled, and she dropped into the vomit, struggling to stand and vomit at the same time. Adaine stepped calmly past, ignoring Lindsey's wide-eyed lackeys, and approached a bemused Machaira.

"Was that – " the rogue started to say.

"Do you want to move upstairs?" Adaine asked. Machaira smiled and nodded. They packed their books and left, giving Lindsey and her puke a wide berth. As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, Adaine caught Machaira smiling warmly at her. "What?"

"You're not nervous anymore," Machaira noted.

"No, I still am," Adaine assured her without thinking. She never would have admitted that at home. Her cold-shoulder family would have crucified her. But Machaira's expression was fierce and proud and warm.

"And that's why you're so brave." Adaine blushed.

"I did tell you that I wasn't opposed to violence," Adaine reminded her. "And it's easy to fight your friend's battles." Machaira flicked her tail at Adaine, catching her across the back. Adaine tried to grab it, but Machaira bounded up the steps and out of reach, tail rising above her head. Adaine tried to chase her but wobbled dangerously on the stairs and called the game off. As the girls settled down to finish last period at a second-floor table bathed in warm sunlight, Adaine decided maybe the popular crowd was overrated anyway. Afterall, the strength of the hero is the party.

"**Out of order is what we look for at this school" – Jayce, Aguefort Sorcery "Teacher"**

Some of Adaine's nerves returned after she explained what a palimpsest was to her friends and they headed over to Krom's diner to find Johnny Spells. But those nerves were balanced out by the sugary goodness of a milkshake. The tiefling gang, Johnny Spells included, had gathered in front of the Arkon Garage across the street almost as the teens sat down, but they had yet to do anything. Everyone placed an order with Yandi, the older Halfling waitress, except Machaira. When asked, the tabaxi quietly admitted she couldn't afford it. Fabian immediately told her to order whatever she wanted. He would pay. Adaine had felt that was a rather sweet gesture from the pirate until he ruined it.

"I thought, you, I mean, er, don't you eat cat food?" Fabian asked, stuttering over his own accent. If this man had not just bought her dinner, Adaine was sure Machaira would have been furious.

"I eat meat, mostly," Machaira said calmly. Adaine could feel her tail tip twitching against her leg like a fluffy snake looking to bite someone. "But I eat, like, normal food."

"Ah, well, ok then," Fabian stammered. "I just, I, well, now I know." The following awkwardness was broken by Gorgug asking the group how to stop singing. They rapidly dissolved into their normal silliness even as they readied weapons and spells, eyeing the tieflings. Adaine didn't say anything to the others, but sweets weren't allowed in her house and this was her very first milkshake. The rich blend of thick cream and chocolate sang on her tongue and pleasantly filled her stomach. In the part of her mind where she memorized important spells and catalogued mystic data, Adaine inscribed the importance of ice cream. She decided this was a much better way to prepare for a fight than detention.

"Okay, so, The Ball, any thoughts?" Fabian asked.

"I mean, we should check out the garage," Riz responded.

"I'm saying, I feel like I'm a tiefling. They're tieflings." Fig began, happily smoking indoors.

"Agreed."

"I can kind of casually," Fig mimed her movements with her shoulders as she spoke. "I can distract them, and you could go sneak in." Voices from outside interrupted her.

"Huh, huh, huh, hey, that's enough, Tony. Come on, lay off of him." One of the bigger tieflings gave a smaller one a good-natured shove with one hand. Johnny Spells, easily the raddest one there, stood up from leaning against the wall.

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Alright, knuckleheads. Break's over. Let's get back to work." Johnny opened a garage door. The seven adventurers leaned toward the window. Inside the garage was a full dance studio, complete with mirrored back wall and balance bar. The tieflings began taking their jackets off and stretching. One of the smaller tieflings closed the garage door. Adaine and her party all turned to stare at each other.

"Okay, so – " Fabian began.

"What?" Adaine asked.

"I need to know more now!" Fig gushed, putting a hand to her chest.

"I am fascinated," Riz admitted.

"I mean, yes," Fabian agreed. "There's reasons outside of…" He trailed off in another stutter.

"I thought it was a chop shop." Riz said.

"I thought they just lived there," Machaira said, licking her lips. The tabaxi had inhaled her shake and seemed determined to lap up every last particle of cream and sugar from the fur around her mouth.

"Yeah – "

"But – "

"I don't know." They all spoke over each other.

"I do agree, Fig, that you will blend in with these people better than any of the rest of us," Fabian said to the bard. The way he circled his hand and emphasized _these people_ earned him a salty stare from Fig.

"Okay, okay," Fig drawled. "Choose your words carefully."

"There's nothing overt – " Fabian began.

"I actually see – I find that I can fit in with anyone," Kristen said, smiling around the group. Machaira coughed, then tried to play it off by sipping from her bone-dry milkshake glass.

"Who's a good dancer?" Gorgug asked.

"I mean, I play music," Fig responded, clearly keen to get in with these tieflings.

"I'm an acrobat," Fabian stated. "I mean, I'm very flexible." He looked around, wiggling his eyebrows. Adaine might have shuddered if she didn't have half a milkshake left to distract her.

"I can do a dance with a scarf that represents how the world can taint you." Kristen countered.

"I, ah… I'm speechless," Fig admitted.

"As am I, yes," Fabian agreed.

"You haven't even seen it yet." Kristen began to take a scarf out of her bag.

"Well, here's the thing," Fig started.

"Kristen, Kristen, Kristen," Fabian slapped the cleric's arm to try and make her drop the scarf.

"I think we should just go spy." Fig proposed.

"Can we talk to the people who work here?" Adaine asked.

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Fig admitted.

"You can stop dancing." Gorgug told Kristen.

"Please stop dancing," Fabian requested.

"Why would you keep that scarf with you?" Machaira asked.

"What?" Kristen said, freezing mid pose with her scarf. "Wait, it only has two color splotches on it from greed and sloth."

"Please put it away," Fabian asked.

"Excuse me," Adaine called to their waitress, turning up her proper elven manners and smiling neatly.

"Yep?" Yandi turned to her, frown softening as she met Adaine's smile.

"Can you tell us, please, about the garage that's across the way?"

"Oh, the garage, yeah." Yandi grinned. "Well, those boys hang out over there."

"Those boys?" Adaine asked, feigning ignorance.

"What do they do there?" Fig asked. Yandi apparently didn't care that she was smoking in a family restaurant.

"They're, um, they're a little rough and tumble, you know?"

"You see, maybe we were mistaken, but we thought that perhaps we saw them dancing in there." Adaine explained. Yandi gasped heavily.

"That's right! You know, when they rumble, they do a whole dance before."

"When they rumble?" Fig, Gorgug, and Adaine all said at once.

"When they fight?" Fig popped in again.

"Yeah, they do it to fight. They come out – I seen them, a bunch of, sort of half-orc bruisers came by one time, and they said, 'Hey, you know, this is our turf!' they just started going Pah-tch-cha-tch-cha!" Yandi scatted for emphasis. "And they started doing this incredible dance!" Fig stared, mouth open. Adaine felt herself smiling against her will at the image. Machaira chuffed, smirking. Everyone else just looked confused.

"They are the Jets?" Riz posed.

"What?" Yandi asked. Adaine wasn't familiar with the reference either.

"They are the Jets." Riz repeated.

"What are you talking about?" Yandi asked. "I don't catch that reference."

"So, they danced, and then they beat them up?" Adaine asked.

"They're a dangerous gang!" Apparently she didn't seem properly afraid of the dancing tieflings because Yandi went wide-eyed as she tried to impress this upon Adaine. "They do a dance!"

"I heard that, and that was the fighting?" Fabian stepped into the conversation. "Or was there no fighting after that?"

"Was there any – " Kristen began.

"They're bards." Riz said, spreading his hands and smiling as if that made their job easier. "They're – "

"No," Yandi protested. "They do a dangerous dance. It's scary. Out there bustin' it up – "

"Is it magic?" Riz asked. "Is the dance magic?"

"What's that?"

"Do they kick people as part of – "

"Oh it is magic. I was transported!" Yandi put her hands up and smiled.

"Was it actual magic?" Riz nearly cried. As much as Adaine wanted real information, she really enjoyed watching Riz struggle to get on the same page as Yandi. "Because surely, Fig, demonstrate a magic musical – " Kristen instantly pulled out her scarf again. Fig activated her Thaumaturgy and played a riff on her bass, triggering a tremor in the diner.

"Stop!" Fabian begged Kristen.

"So was it like this or like this?" Riz gestured from Kristen to Fig. Fig's music hit her milkshake, splashing her with dairy deliciousness. Adaine hardly had time to lament the loss of shake when a little airplane bottle of liquor popped to the top of her desert. Fig cheered and snatched up the bottle for herself.

"Wow, that's pure rock N' roll," Yandi praised Fig.

"Thank you," Fig grinned and bobbed her head over her bass, pocketing the liquor. "Your welcome." She said to the table.

"Yeah, it's like that."

"Okay, alright, thank you very much," Riz rushed, putting a hand to his face. Fabian took Kristen's lapse in attention to stuff the scarf into her bag.

"Okay, so they have some kind of thing tonight," Fig surmised. "They have a fight tonight. That's what this means."

"Oh, good call," Kristen complimented.

"I want to see this so bad," Riz admitted, grinning.

"So, if we stay, if we stay," Fig sputtered around her shake. "First off we should try and spy on them."

"What do you mean, they have a fight tonight?" Yandi asked. "No, they rehearse all the time."

"Can I get another cruller?" Fig asked. Adaine couldn't tell if she wanted the party to have privacy or if she was just hungry.

"You think you can just – you want another cruller?" Yandi asked, pointing at Fig. Riz broke out laughing.

"Yeah, can we just get another round of crullers?" Riz snickered

"Can I get three crullers?" Gorgug asked.

"Round of crullers for the whole gang," Riz chortled, rolling about on the both.

"I just wanted three crullers," Gorgug protested. Adaine found herself laughing with the others at the sudden pastry subterfuge. Yandi nodded and wrote down their orders.

"But yeah, I was gonna say, you think you can just jump into a dance extemporaneously? No! You have to rehearse a lot. If you're going to do a threatening gang dance, you gotta put the work in." Yandi clapped for emphasis.

"That makes sense," Machaira said sagely to the waitress. "It makes total sense why these very dangerous gangsters would spend hours every day rehearsing dance moves."

"Yeah, it does!" Yandi agreed. Machaira kept her face expressionless, but Adaine could feel her tail going nuts under the table as she struggled to maintain the façade.

"Ok, yeah." Riz agreed, clearly trying to hurry Yandi along.

"Yeah, sorry, but that cruller?" Fig asked.

"There's no need to be rude," Fabian chastised her. "But please go get our crullers." Fabian waved at her.

"Alright, seven more crullers." Yandi turned on her heel and walked away.

"And fresh ones," Fig snickered.

"Please don't come back," Riz agreed. Machaira kicked him under the table.

"I don't think it's rock N' roll to be rude to wait staff," Adaine said pointedly to Fig.

"Especially not when she's trying to be helpful," Machaira eyed Fabian.

"I'm not trying to be rude!" Fig protested. "And I wasn't trying to be rock N' roll. I was trying to – she was eavesdropping."

"We invited her into the conversation," Machaira reminded her.

"Also, let's be honest, they're wait staff." Fabian held up an arm and tittered.

"Well, come on now."

"Okay, well, no."

"That's going too far."

"I don't know."

"I mean they're wait staff," Fabian protested.

"We are not on the same page here," Fig asserted. Suddenly her eyes widened. Fig gasped and sat straight. "Uh, guys, we gotta go."

"Go where?" Fabian asked.

"What?" Kristen frowned

"We gotta go to the garage," Fig answered.

"Why?" Fabian argued.

"Someone needs to be saved."

"What?" Kristen repeated.

"Yes, we need to go to the garage," Riz agreed automatically.

"A whisper just came through my guitar." Fig told them. "I don't know if you guys heard, but it said 'save me'."

"Was it like a Halfling voice in the guitar whisper?" Riz asked, suddenly interested.

"I'm not sure."

"It was just like a general guitar whisper?" Riz countered.

"Okay, fine," Fabian interrupted before they could squabble, gesturing to the table. "How are we going to go about this, alright? That's the real question, right? 'Cause all seven of us running up on this garage – I mean, these boys look scary."

"Wait, you guys," Kristen interjected. "Listen to me." Kristen's voice began to take on a magical undercurrent as she channeled divine power. Adaine could feel the essence of her god work its way into her words as the cleric stood on the table.

"We're probably going to have to go in there and encounter what we already did, which is – "

"Corn cuties?" Gorgug asked. Riz shook with silent laughter.

"Corn cuties." Kristen affirmed. "I worship the corn, and yesterday I had to see it's perverted, upside – "

"It's gonna get inspiring," Gorgug promised Fig.

"Yeah, I know," Fig told him, her smile already bright with a trace of Helioc magic. The god could pour power into Kristen's voice, but Helio could never stop this party from interrupting each other. "And she's standing on the table so – "

"It was really hard, and it was very confronting," Kristen admitted. "Uh, yeah, sure, my whole thing is praising Helio, who is a corn. Yeah, sure, yesterday maybe because my bible went into the corn, it went evil and, uh, at us, okay? I have a lot of questions, not a lot of answers. But I think that if we go in there, we can save that person. Maybe not through Helio but through some sort of good in this world that I worship. I'm getting more into a, like, one love place in my life. Um, like, maybe it's not just Helio, maybe there's, like, a lot of gods." Adaine and Machaira shared a look. Why would Kristen think that question was a 'maybe'? How sheltered was she? "Or maybe there's just like the glint of good in everyone's eye, and we can all decide to follow that or not. Um, I have a lot of reading to do. But anyway, something has been – "

"This is a good inspiring – " Gorgug began. Kristen spoke louder.

"Something has, yeah, something – "

"Hey, don't worry, I'm ready to clap at any moment," Fabian promised.

"Something has been giving me a lot of power. You guys all witnessed it, right? You made jokes that you were gonna be religious soon."

"Yeah, we did," Fabian admitted.

"I witnessed it," Fig confirmed.

"Again, different religion," Machaira reminded her.

"Just know that I have been praying for you each night, each of you individually."

"So one night." Fig clarified. "It's been one night since you met us."

"Yeah. I, yeah. Well, honestly, before I even met you, I prayed for the friends and the company I would keep when I entered this school."

"That's actually really nice," Fig gasped, light of Helio glittering on her expression. Adaine could feel the divine energy invigorate her.

"I want the best for you, and I'll always heal you."

"You will," Fabian chuckled. Adaine wasn't sure if that was a confirmation of faith in their cleric or a threat.

"I will." Kristen took it as the former and sat down. "And um, yeah, so if you would just take my hand, and let's close this out." With a great sigh, everyone reluctantly clasped hands. Adaine felt Gorgug's giant mitt envelope her right hand while Machaira's smaller palm grasped her left. "Let's pray." Fig used her free hand to down the bottle of liquor. Machaira's tail whipped about under the table, lashing around Adaine's legs.

"Dear really big god, maybe not Helio anymore 'cause you were kind of, you kind of looked like you date-raped." Fabian groaned uncomfortably. "Um, anyway, uh, something better than who I met as a god, please be with us as we go in there, and thank you for this day, and thank you for this food. Thank you for – "

"Amen." Adaine said quickly, keen to break this off.

"Ah, okay." Kristen stumbled to a halt as everyone let go of each other and stood to leave, desperate to do something less awkward, like fight and die. In the end they decided that Riz and Adaine would make a preliminary investigation around the back of the garage. Riz flitted about the back like a ghost while Adaine stumbled and fell over uneven earth and potholes. Fortunately, the tieflings were dancing up a storm and did not notice.

"Bruno, Bruno," a voice chastised from inside. "When I'm here, you gotta be here. You understand me?" Snaps emphasized the here's. "I'm at this, alright? Bahm, bahm, bahmp-bahmp-bahmp, and kick and flip and turn. You understand me?"

"Hey, don't fucking talk to me that way," a deeper voice insisted. "I'm trying, alright? You're more limber than I am." Adaine carefully peered through a window, swallowing her nerves and barely raising her eyes above the bottom of the pane. A small crystal glowed with arcane energy on a work bench at the front of the garage. The surface had been scarred or scraped, the fractures glowing even more brightly with magic than the rest of it. A figure of a young girl composed of unstable arcane energy lay within the rock, pushing her hands against the outer surface of the crystal.

Adaine looked at Riz. The goblin was clinging to the window sill by his fingertips, feet braced against the wall. Riz looked back at Adaine and nodded. The slunk around the side of the building back to the others. Adaine and Riz related their findings to the others. While Riz hadn't seen the girl, he had noticed a box of tea next to the crystal.

"That girl was sick," Kristen remembered. "That girl was poisoned."

"Right." Riz confirmed.

"With tea leaves," Fig added.

"But you stole tea from the vice president," Kristen pointed at the goblin.

"Aguefort," Fig corrected.

"From the principle," Adaine reminded Kristen when the cleric looked confused.

"And he said that it tasted terrible!"

"The principle was saying this tasted terrible!" Fig and Kristen spoke at the same time.

"Yet he kept drinking it," Machaira noted.

"Aguefort probably had some kind of magic resistance," Adaine told her.

"They're trying – they were trying to – so he is good!" Kristen eventually finished.

"If someone was trying to – " Fig began.

"If someone's against him he is good," Kristen repeated.

"Yeah, they were trying to poison Aguefort." Fig glared a bit at the cleric for talking over her.

"Or is Aguefort bad, and these guys are good?" Riz asked.

"No." Fig shot the idea down at once.

"These guys have a girl trapped in a crystal. I don't think that they're good." Adaine countered.

"That's scary," Kristen admitted.

"Maybe that's the crystal that she was talking about?" Adaine proposed.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Yeah, it was scraped, like it was – " Gorgug began.

"Right," Riz finished.

"But they must have also been responsible because of the other word, palimpsest?" Fig looked to Adaine.

"Yeah."

"Is a…" Fig mimed a scraping action.

"Scraping clean, yeah." Adaine nodded. "But how do those girls know about – "

"No, no," Fig tried to protest.

"I know what you're saying," Kristen said, interrupting Fig again to explain Fig's point. "Was it the piece of paper that was in the corn? It could have been or it could just mean she's in the crystal."

"Probably the crystal," Machaira weighed in. "Palimpsest only refers to a page of sheepskin. The page in the corn was paper."

"Yeah." Fig gave the other girls a bit of a hard stare. The noise of the dance rehearsal began to wrap up, tiefling footsteps becoming less vigorous. Adaine suddenly realized that they were basically just outside the garage door.

"I'm going to steal the crystal and the keys," Riz whispered. Adaine turned to the doorway and used a mage hand spell to pull the crystal and keys into her hands from where she stood. Riz rushed in, grabbed a thing of tea and a note off the counter, and grinned at the others.

"You guys wanna go for a ride?" Riz asked. Fig jumped in the front seat of a convertible in the parking lot. Adaine tossed her the keys, and she started the car.

"Absolutely." Everyone piled into the car. Adaine Insisted on getting in the shotgun seat next to Fig. As they climbed in, the tieflings came out of the garage. Johnny Spells stood at the front of the tiefling greasers, staring out at the seven kids jumping in his car.

"Johnny, they're getting in your car!" One of the smaller tieflings said, pointing at their party fifteen feet away. Somehow Adaine imagined he would fit in well with their group. She instinctively tried to cover her face so they wouldn't be able to describe her to the police. _Oh god she was stealing again. Why are we always stealing?_

"Alright, gang," Johnny Spells raised both hands and snapped, green fire roaring around his arms. "Let's rumble." Fig peeled out, driving like a lunatic as the tieflings mounted motorcycles. The radio came on, rock blasting out like a war cry. Beside her, Machaira smiled.

Why were they always stealing?


	5. Street Race to the Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some say they're the sexiest villains. Some say they're the most annoying villains. Some say they just wanted their car back. No matter what stand you take, always remember it's the car crash that kills you and not the tiefling greasers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a split POV chapter. I want to have a couple more of these in the future, just for ease of reading. I also took a bit of a darker turn for this chapter of the campaign since this is arguably one of the most iconic and dangerous battles in the series even though nothing terrible really happens. Please note that darker twists in the story will also become more frequent.

**Chapter 4: Street Race to the Death**

"Oh my god, we stole a car. We stole a car. We stole a car." Adaine muttered to herself as Fig peeled out with a whoop. Machaira could smell the sour tang of panic on the young wizard but stayed focused on the tieflings behind them. Adaine had proven that she was stronger than her panic attacks before; Machaira had faith that she would do so again. To Machaira, the car was an unnecessarily noisy monstrosity, the elementals in the engine howling as their power was drawn on to fuel the vehicle. The motorcycles were even worse, a constant mechanical screaming that hurt her ears. The highway reeked of trash. Everything about this was an assault against her senses, and Machaira's blood roared in her veins.

The thrill of battle took hold as all her concerns evaporated save the familiar contest of life and death between her and their enemies. The relative simplicity of combat meant, for a brief moment, she had no doubts about who or what she was. These were her friends. The tieflings would not take them from her.

"Yes, we did, we stole a car," Fabian confirmed to Adaine, shifting around in the back seat next to Machaira to face the bikers behind them. "But, okay, they're after us." Fig turned up the radio. "Okay, that's not helpful, Fig."

"Let's rumble!" A high-pitched voice screeched behind them as if to confirm Fabian.

"Just drive fast!" Adaine yelled over the music.

"What's with the crystal?" Riz screamed. "Who has the crystal?

"I have the crystal," Adaine told him. Machaira could hear the distress in her voice as over-stimulation set in. The sharp, vulnerable smell of fear mingled with Adaine's personal scent, just discernible over brimstone and leather. Machaira had begun to loath that particular mix, but it helped rile protective instincts deep within her subconscious. Conscious goals and animal intuition aligned, Machaira could feel her inhibitions slip away. Her claws flexed in anticipation of the kill.

"Uhg, NPR, no" Fig muttered, still flicking through channels.

"Focus on the road, please, Fig," Fabian asked. Johnny Spells revved his motorcycle, speeding ahead of the others and pulling up along their left side to face Riz.

"Hey, kid," Johnny called out to the goblin. "Don't you wanna be cool? Why don't you pull that car over to the side of the road?"

"Great idea, Johnny," Riz called back. Machaira wondered exactly what Johnny expected to happen there. Fabian took out his crossbow and fired a shot.

"Yeah, let's get it, boys!" The tiefling behind Johnny, a pinky-red greaser swinging a spiked chain, was cut off as Fabian's bolt pierced his throat. Hot, fiery blood oozed out of his mouth and neck. He wobbled on his motorcycle, chain clattering on the pavement alongside him.

"Huzzah!" Fabian cried.

"Woo!" Fig cheered back, revving the engine. Gorgug stared at Johnny's hell beast, peering into the skull's flaming eyes. Gorgug's face contorted, first with fear, then rage. He shouted and hurled a hand ax at the motorcycle. The ax clanged against the skull of Johnny's motorcycle. A tiny crack appeared, but Machaira could smell infernal power within the vehicle. A hundred hits might break it, but they didn't have that kind of time.

Riz hopped out of the middle row of seats into the front, clambering over Fig to sit practically in Adaine's lap. The wizard yelped and scooted over.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Fig demanded.

"I think we should pull over," Riz told her with a smile. Machaira shook her head, positive she'd heard wrong.

"Riz, no, let's not," Fabian called up to him.

"Fuck, Riz!" Kristen exclaimed. "Can someone stuff Riz in a bag?" Fig laughed despite herself.

"God damn it, Riz! Snap out of it." Machaira snarled. Of course, their rogue was under a suggestion spell.

"I'm not gonna physically make you stop, but I think that you should pull over." Riz insisted. Machaira grimly wondered how long his pacifism would last.

"Okay, yeah, yeah, I'll give it some thought." Fig promised.

"Yeah, great," Riz thanked her. Fig turned the radio up even louder. Adaine's eyes glowed blue with a whoosh of magical energy. The crystal began to hover over her lap, spinning in her hands.

"Oh god, I'm such a nerd." Adaine said to herself. A bullet narrowly missed Machaira, whizzing inches past her cheek to ping off the car's hood. "Speed it up." Adaine muttered under her breath, staring at the crystal instead of Fig. Tires screeched as Fig dodged around a fallen trash can in the road. "Is that bad?"

Adaine appeared to be talking to someone no one else could see. Since Johnny hadn't cast any other spells, and the rest of the tieflings looked like they had the cumulative mystic capacity of an old boot, Machaira guessed she was doing some weird wizard thing. Machaira dearly hoped this was just some weird wizard thing. "That school I was sent to was bad!" Adaine insisted fervently as Riz again tried to convince Fig to pull over. "Oh god," she sighed.

Fig laid on the horn, a blaring alarm to any living thing unfortunate enough to cross their path. Fig found a station playing "Rainbow in the Dark" and cranked it up even higher. The music pounded painfully against Machaira's ears. Gorgug and Riz clamped hands over their heads. Adaine shrank against her seat.

"Is that really necessary?" Machaira bellowed. Fig nodded in the rearview mirror before sitting up to glance further back at the tieflings. Machaira couldn't hear her cast the spell, but she could see its effect. The two tieflings in the front of the group each began to close their eyes, yawning and dipping forward over their handle bars. The motorcycles wavered and skidded out of control, turning end over end. Johnny Spells barely swerved out of the way as the wounded tiefling flew off the side of the road into a ditch. His whole spine snapped, audible even over Fig's cacophony. The other tiefling slammed into a bench.

"Oh, Johnny!" The tiefling screamed from between the bench and his motorcycle.

"Eat it, bitch!" Fig taunted in the rearview mirror.

"What a pussy," Adaine said casually, eyes still glowing blue. Machaira whistled appreciatively.

"Fig, you've got some real hell fire in you," Machaira laughed. Fig grinned.

"He'll never dance again," Riz congratulated her. "But seriously, I really think we should pull over."

"Oh, yeah, I hope you break your legs, bitches!" Fig hollered. She then looked in the rearview mirror again, turning unmistakably to Fabian, and winked at him. A little glow settled around the half-elf, and Fabian stared up at the front of the car, mouth flapping without speaking. Machaira could hear his heart racing and smell the hormones coursing through the poor, confused boy's blood. Fabian desperately tried to force another bolt into his crossbow, fumbling with the string.

"What was that? What was that? What does that mean?" He asked, trying to play cool and failing miserably. "Is it, like, a thing? I don't know." The last part was whispered, only audible because Machaira was sitting right next to him. She grinned and snorted. Hopefully Fig would properly explain what happened before Fabian got too distracted and hurt himself.

Machaira aimed her crossbow at the nearest greaser and fired. Her bolt pierced his shoulder, forcing him to let go of one of the handlebars and swerve a bit to keep his balance but failing to drop him. The bikers drew arquebi and pistols, opening fire on the car. Several rounds either went wide or pinged off the side, only hurting the paint job. But two tieflings in the back hit Fabian and Machaira. Machaira snarled as the bullet tore a furrow through her shoulder on its way past, narrowly missing Fig as well. But Fabian took a bullet straight in his left pectoral.

"Ooh, bullet burn!" The tieflings sang, scatting on their motorcycles, smoking guns in hand. Machaira could feel a sickening infernal energy dancing in her wound. Summoning every ounce of mental power she had, the tabaxi forced back the pain. The fiery magic responded to her resistance, and the pain dialed back from excruciating to manageable. But Fabian's wound was deeper, and he sunk down onto the seat with a cry.

"You gonna let him get away with that?" Fig shouted.

"Absolutely not," Fabian hissed back through clenched teeth.

"That was so, wow," Fig tried to describe the jibe but just shook her head in disbelief. Another tiefling cackled and hurled a Molotov cocktail at the car, washing the passengers with fire. Machaira, Fabian, Gorgug, and Kristen managed to duck down in time to avoid the worst of the flames. Adaine and Riz cried out as the blazing liquor burned against them. Fig took the brunt of the fire but merely grunted, largely unharmed. Johnny turned on his motorcycle to face the greaser that threw the cocktail.

"Hey man, that's my car!"

"Sorry, Johnny, I'm just trying to stop them," the greaser apologized. With a start, Machaira realized that this one was female, her voice high-pitched and scratchy over the roar of engines. Kristen leaned out the side of the car and thrust her hand toward Johnny and his gang.

"Hey," She shouted. "By Helio, maybe, I cast you Bane!" Johnny Spells raised a fiery hand against Kristen's curse. Adaine leaned out the car as well, eyes blazing with power. The wizard held out her hand and pointed at Johnny, forming a fist. Johnny shouted in dismay as the lines of fate and destiny blazed into existence and twisted around him, the very fabric of history and reality bending to Adaine's will. His counter-spell was crushed between the lines of magical energy. The smell of burned corn descended in a haze of sickly yellow light over Johnny and another greaser with an ax, Helio responding to his chosen's request and cursing their enemies. Machaira bared her teeth and snarled with feral satisfaction. Johnny Spells grit his teeth and rode up alongside the front of the car.

Fig screamed. Machaira turned to look forward and hissed in alarm. Fig was barreling toward a stop sign just before an intersection. Just beginning to cross the intersection was a family of Halflings. The father sat in the front of the car on a booster seat, leg strapped into a crutch to reach the pedal, extra wide mirror lowered to let him see behind the car.

"Alright, kids, we'll be at ice cream soon enough, diner's just down the wa-aaaaaah!" The little Halfling exclaimed. Fig spun the wheel, fishtailed as the car drifted around the front of the Halflings' car, bounced into and over a fire hydrant, and screeched onto the next stretch of street.

"I love that bang off the hydrant! Great move, great move," Fabian applauded Fig from his slumped position in the back, slapping his leg to avoid jarring his smoking arm. The rest of them took up the praise. But the party's initial exuberant cheers were soon mangled into cries of distress as the Halflings' car came to a sudden screeching stop, turning a full 180 degrees, right in the path of the oncoming tieflings. Johnny was already past that point, having veered further to the left and racing to reclose the gap between his bike and his car. Most of the other tieflings similarly wove around the new obstacle.

"Hey guys, wait up for me!" The tiefling who had crashed into the bench was not only alive but pelting up the street behind them. The injured greaser, in his haste to catch up to the rest of the gang, slammed into the Halflings' car.

"Oh my lord, ever heard of a stop sign?" The Halfling father chastised. Machaira stiffened with the rest of her party, tail bushed. Fortunately, none of the Halflings were hurt. The motorcycle flipped over the car.

"Oh, daddy, play it cool," the greaser half sang as he dropped from the flying motorcycle, back flipping onto the trunk of their car.

"Oooooh, no!" Fig groaned.

"Everyone has a daddy thing," Kristen commented. Johnny Spells pulled right alongside Fig and looked at her, eyes glowing bright green.

"Hey, sweet thing," he said huskily. "I'm unattached at the moment. What are you doing later?" Fig flashed him a smile.

"I'm not sweet, I'm sour." Fig shot back with a sexy wink and a middle finger.

"Angry little mamaaaa," Johnny dragged out the word, grinning more with approval than anger as his suggestion spell faded. Fabian leapt up, swinging at the greaser on the back of the car. As he rose, his wound flared with infernal magic, and he flinched, slowing his strike. _Clang! _The tiefling deflected the fighter's rapier with his crowbar.

"Oooh, little man wants to rum-ble!"

"Shut the fuck up," Fabian demanded, dropping backward into his seat to face the tiefling. Fortunately, the car was moving so fast the tiefling didn't have a ton of opportunities to hit them. That didn't stop him from being aggravating.

"Oooh, I'm all loose and limber from dance practice." the greaser shimmied to drive the point home.

"Oh my god," Fabian groaned.

"You see though man, this is kinda what you sound like." Kristen informed Fabian.

"No this is not," Fabian insisted. Machaira and Gorgug both had to duck a crowbar swipe.

"I'm sorry," Kristen held up her hands apologetically.

"I don't sound like this." Fabian cried. The tiefling drew an arquebus and took aim at Fig, who was laughing up a storm in the front seat. Machaira slashed at him with her saber. The greaser evaded her attack but dropped his weapon in the process.

"Yeah you do, it's all flowery and presentational," Kristen insisted.

"Always going on about papa, papa," Riz, who was apparently back to himself, chose to join in the teasing. Gorgug tried to rise and hit their unwanted passenger but was forced to duck as the other gang members drew their guns, helping their comrade with suppressing fire.

"I say papa, I love my father," Fabian protested, spreading his arms 'like what do you want from me?'. Machaira wanted to interject here, but she couldn't stand without getting shot, and it took all her concentration to defend against the crowbar from her sitting position. _Please hurry this along and help us kill him_ she thought.

"I hate you," Gorgug roared at the greaser in their car. Gorgug stood, and a greaser shot him, infernal magic glowing with poisonous light from the wound. Still, Gorgug swung his battle ax at their passenger. The tiefling leapt over the ax, managing to land on their car yet again, and grinned.

"Ooh, play it cool, daddio," the greaser insisted, rolling his shoulders about.

"Grrrr, stop," Fabian growled.

"I won't stop. This is what I'm like all the time." The tiefling fucking sashayed on their car.

"God damn, honestly though, I could hear you saying all of this," Kristen told Fabian. "I could hear you saying every word."

"That is not how I talk," Fabian insisted, a little bit of petulant frustration creeping into his voice. Riz turned to Fig.

"Sorry, that wasn't me," he apologized. "I'm gonna shoot this guy in the dick." Riz turned and fired at the guy on the back of their car. As Riz leveled the gun, the tiefling began to move so that by the time Riz had pulled the trigger, the bullet missed. The greaser arched his back in a full half circle, abs outlined through his jacket. Soft exclamations rippled from the party. Fig was riveted to the view in the rearview mirror until the car started to drift, and she jerked her attention back to the road, blushing furiously.

Adaine's eyes, which had been glowing with varying intensities of blue light almost since the battle began, flared a shade brighter. She pointed a finger at Johnny, and a stream of green liquid shot from her fingertip into Johnny's mouth, force feeding him magical maladies for a good number of seconds until Johnny finally vomited on his own.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Adaine rushed, turning her head away and holding a hand over her face. Machaira wasn't sure if she was talking to Johnny or the rest of the party or simply regretted creating such a vile image. Johnny puked all over himself, chunks flying off his bike into traffic behind them.

"Not cool, little mama," he gagged, continuing to throw up. Adaine put up her hands in revolt.

"Somehow you calling me little mama is so much grosser than you puking." She said with passion.

"Nobody steps to Johnny's bluhuhbluh," The mobster spluttered. "Nobody bluh… nobody blah… owww, papa's hurting." He finished. Fig thumped her seat with her back laughing. The bard grinned, still laying into the horn, and stared at their passenger in the rearview mirror. Machaira heard a vicious mockery cantrip and grinned. The greaser on the back of the car stopped dancing for a moment, eyes beginning to tear up. After a moment he resumed dancing, lips quivering as he withheld tears. Fig then turned to Gorgug and winked at him. Once more, a glow settled around Gorgug. The raging half-orc briefly froze, staring at Fig with wide eyes.

"Rrrrhg, what's, what's that about? What does that mean?" Gorgug stammered.

"I don't know what that means," Fabian admitted, giving Gorgug a look filled with bromantic support. The greaser cackled on the trunk. Machaira growled. She'd had enough of this hitchhiker.

Machaira stood and placed a boot on the back of the car. A bullet slammed home into her ribs, cracking bone and lighting her insides with hellfire. But she'd been injured plenty of times. Hell, her ribs had been crushed only a few hours ago. Machaira forced her mind to focus through the pain as the greaser swung at her with his crowbar, tapping a jig as he did so.

"Oooh, what you want to do in a big bad sword fight?" He taunted. Saber crossed crowbar, and the tiefling's jibes came to a rasping halt as Machaira parried his strike and buried her sword in his heart. The dying greaser stared at her, mouth working.

"Ooh, daddy… my last words were daddy," he choked out as Machaira stepped up to him, holding her sword in his chest until they stood face to face. She bared her teeth in a savage smile and thrust his body back. The corpse tumbled out of the car, forcing the other tieflings to swerve aside. Machaira's tail lashed behind her, helping her balance as she waved her bloody saber at the rest of the gang.

"Anyone else want to pet the kitty?" She mocked, droplets of blood spinning from her blade to fleck the other bikers, her mane rippling in the wind. Fig whooped, and Fabian cheered. Another shot rang out, punching through her injured shoulder.

"Oooh, hot mama, burn!" The tiefling howled. Machaira nearly blacked out, staggering on the back of the car. She stabbed her saber through the trunk to maintain her balance, eyes narrowed at the tiefling who shot her. She growled, the low sound rippling under the blare of music and car horns. Fortunately, she'd always had a strong constitution, but the toxin still seared against her flesh.

"Your sense of rhythm is awful," she taunted, forcing herself to stand straight. The tiefling gaped, almost crashing into a signpost, face alight with indignation. Another tiefling rode up alongside their car and swung, clocking Gorgug across the head with a baseball bat.

"Here, kid, let me teach you to sam-ba," he taunted.

"That's not what that dance is!" Gorgug bellowed. Two more bullets flew by Fabian, but a third hit Gorgug, tearing across his side of his ribs. Kristen gasped and called on Helio once again. The divine essence of the corn god settled around Fig, Gorgug, and Riz blessing them. Machaira grinned, then looked back over at Johnny and blanched. A steep curve popped into view just ahead of them. Machaira flung herself back into her seat, crying out as the motion jarred her bullet wounds.

Fortunately, Fig was the best driver Machaira had ever seen, effortlessly drifting around the bend and lighting a clove. The bard grinned and started to take out her flask before quickly shoving it back into her jacket.

"Oh my god, my own mind is so lame," Adaine groaned. Machaira chose to believe that this was more wizard-y stuff she could find out about later. Johnny managed to control his vomiting long enough to glare at Adaine and draw back an arm.

"Ooh, you think you're a big bad spell-caster?" He taunted. "Well, get ready for a big bad spell!" A green skull swirled into his hand, and the tiefling hurled it at Adaine. The skull flew toward the wizard and exploded against her, sizzling on her skin and clothes. In seconds Adaine's skin was bright red, acid searing her flesh.

"Ooowww," Adaine groaned, glaring daggers at Johnny. Every protective instinct in Machaira roared to life.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that one, little demon," she snarled, teeth flashing at the tiefling. Fabian turned and fired a bolt behind them at the biker Machaira had hit earlier. The iron tip crunched through the keratin at the base of the tiefling's horn and into her head. The greaser slumped forward and skidded off the road, crashing into a tree.

Gorgug bellowed and leaned out of the car to take a reckless attack on the tiefling closest to him. Blood sprayed from the biker's ribs as Gorgug's ax sank in. The tiefling veered away, the ax blade tearing out of his body.

"Ah, why you gotta crimp my style, green man?"

"I'm not crimping anything," Gorgug insisted, knuckles white on the handle of his weapon.

"Y'know, the problem with crimping my style is – " The biker's comeback was cut short as Riz shot his magic gun and blew his head fully off of his body, left horn and ear flying away separately. Gorgug held his ax up and cheered.

"That is certainly a problem with crimping your style," Machaira noted, smiling at Riz. "Good shot."

"I finally did something this fight," Riz assured them, grinning from ear to pointy ear. Adaine took a deep breath and glared at Johnny Spells. She held out a hand and fired an arc of lightning from her fingertips. Unfortunately, Adaine missed Johnny and hit the engine of their car. Something inside the car broke, popping and pinging about. The engine began to make one of those weird mechanical sounds that, as a non-car person, could have meant absolutely anything to Machaira but did not sound great.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry" Adaine apologized on repeat. Machaira leveled her crossbow at Johnny and fired. Her bolt struck his shoulder instead of his head where she'd been aiming, but Johnny spells still cried out as half the shaft buried in his shoulder blade, iron point poking out his chest. Instead of blood, raw, evil infernal energy circled out of the wound like smog.

"Ooow, kitten's got claws," Johnny Spells exclaimed. "But this cat still ain't cool enough to jive with Daddy."

"There's no way that this is just how you talk," Machaira snapped back. Hearing Johnny call her kitten, maybe the third time in her life anyone had used the traditional tabaxi term of affection and endearment toward her, brought to mind so many terrible decisions she'd made with older men. _Nope, not gonna think about that right now. Just gonna think about killing this man_.

"I like the nipple piercing," Fig told him. "You should get more."

"Johnny, I think it's time for this rodeo to come to a grand fin-al-e," a greaser announced.

"You're mixing your metaphors," Fig yelled at him.

"What happened to the end of that word?" Gorgug demanded. A tiefling with a baseball bat inscribed with the words 'Lil Slugga' leapt off his motorcycle and onto the hood of the car.

"Bring it on, come one," Fig taunted him. The greaser obliged, swinging over the windshield to clock Fig over the head. Fig's head snapped to the side, but her hands remained steady at the wheel. She looked back up at the tiefling and grinned, blood all over her face, eyes glowing red.

Another tiefling fired at Adaine but missed terribly. A third shot Fabian, bullet scouring a path across his injured shoulder. Fabian screamed but remained conscious. Kristen leaned out of the car and swung at a greaser holding a broken beer bottle, smacking him across the forehead with her staff.

"Ooowww, what's your deal, mama? Don't you wanna learn how to jive?" Beer Bottle asked, arching an eyebrow and smiling at the cleric. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"I would not like to learn how to jive," Kristen politely declined. Fig giggled despite her head wound. The tiefling shrugged and winked.

"All right, sweet thing. Catch you on the dance floor." The tiefling licked his hand and smoothed down his hair.

"I hate these people," Fabian declared, clutching his smoking arm.

"We killed a bunch of your friends!" Gorgug reminded him.

"What?" The tiefling frowned.

"They're dead," Riz repeated. The tiefling's smile flickered, and he looked down at his handlebars.

"I hadn't really taken the time to…"

"Process that!" Gorgug urged him.

"I hadn't really, naw, 'cause… wow." The tiefling's face fell as he sank over his handlebars until the motorcycle nearly skidded onto its side. The greaser scrambled to regain control of his motorcycle.

"I was about to say that giving these guys emotional therapy was a bad plan," Machaira said, calmly standing and slashing at another tiefling with her saber, driving him back from the car. "But it's surprisingly effective."

"It's always better to talk it out," Kristen insisted while Adaine chortled. Fig turned toward the highway, flooring the accelerator. They sped up to 80, 85 miles per hour, elementals screeching in the rattling engine.

"Johnny," one of the greasers shouted. "We gotta do it man. They're gonna get away."

"Come on, not my beautiful car," Johnny pleaded. The tieflings fell back. Johnny Spells raised his hand, arm wreathed in green fire. A human skull formed in the smoke, chattering menacingly as Johnny launched it at the engine of their car. The sickly glow of Helio's curse clung to Johnny as he let the spell fly, and the skull veered off to the right, incinerating a plastic bag on the side of the road in a flash of light.

"Whew," Fig puffed. Adaine put a hand to her heart.

"Rrrrrg," Johnny ground out. Fabian settled back against his seat, left arm smoking as he drew his cross bow with his right hand. In true Fabian fashion, their fighter casually lined up a shot while reclined as comfortably as possible. The glow of bardic inspiration faded as he fired at the tiefling on the hood.

"Oh, I take the stage to – huuuh," the greaser choked as Fabian tracheotomied him.

"Oh, what was that?" Fabian inquired. "What were you saying?" Fabian delicately waved his crossbow in the air, face twisted in a mix of horrible pain and feigned indifference. Gorgug leaned out the back of the car and threw a hand ax at Johnny. Traveling 85mph in one direction and thrown in another, the ax was barely a blip in space before burying itself in Johnny's left pectoral, opposite Machairs's bolt. Muscles ripped off his skeleton as the handle of the ax was tugged to the side by the speed of their driving. More infernal smoke billowed out of his body.

"Aaaaahhhgg, why can't you guys just be cool? Why'd you have to be so lame?!" Johnny implored in between screams of pain. Riz, ever the gentleman, aimed his pistol in a dueler's stance and shot Johnny in the stomach. Covered in blood, vomit, and poison, crossbow bolt through one shoulder, hand ax in the other, and a bullet in his stomach, Johnny Spells labored for breath.

"I don't wanna rumble no more! I don't wanna rumble no more!" He babbled, painful tears squeezing out over his face.

"Fury of the small," the goblin crowed.

"Motion to rename it Fury of The Ball," Fig polled the party.

"No, I don't like that," Riz protested.

"100%, motion granted," Fabian declared from his slump.

"Motion granted," Adaine chimed in, raising a hand.

"Best motion ever," Machaira agreed.

"Let's go ahead and pass that into law," Kristen popped a hand up as she spoke. Gorgug waved his hand up and down for emphasis. Riz sat back in a resigned pout. Adaine, smiling once more, held out a glowing hand and picked up a swirl of dust. She turned and threw it into Johnny Spell's face.

"Arrghh, boys, they're concentrating on me, why?" Johnny asked, trying to hold a hand against the dust storm. The teens laughed at his suffering. Machaira leveled her crossbow and took aim.

"You're the leader Johnny," a tiefling in the back quietly reminded him. Fig stared at the engine, eyebrows furrowed. She glanced up at the road ahead: highway or construction site. The tiefling with the bat somehow managed to keep talking around the bolt in his neck.

"Oh, you wanna rumble? Coming up next to the plate, Scorching Ray, with a little – "

As he was speaking, Fig looked back in the rearview mirror and grinned evilly. Fig cranked up the tunes, dragged her clove, and spun the wheel. The car just began to swing around toward the tieflings before fishtailing and overturning. Machaira was still standing when the car started to flip. She tried to jump down and buckle up, but she was too slow. The world spun around her, music and tearing metal screeching in her ears. Pain exploded across her body, and the world went black.

"**I showed you, Beer Bottle, I did" – Fabian to the young man he brutally murdered**

As the car made its first flip, Fig turned and uttered a healing word. Adaine felt her acid burns smooth over, a split second of relief before the car spun down the road. _I'm not wearing a seatbelt. Why aren't I wearing a seatbelt?_ Adaine thought, terrified as she clung to the side of the tumbling car. As the car rolled over and over, Adaine had a horrifying front row seat to the transformation of Scorching Ray from being a full person with a life and dreams to an element of the road. Viscera showered over the car, her friends, her body.

_Oh go oh god oh go oh god oh god_. Her shriek was lost to the wail of ripping metal and eventually swallowed by the constriction of her own chest muscles. Adaine's vision became dark and shaky even as the car stopped moving around her. She was upside down, the space was dark, no, god no. Adaine could hear people moving and screaming, but she couldn't see them. She couldn't get enough air, there wasn't enough air under the car, her lungs were moving too quickly to take it in, oh god, no no no.

She tried to move her arms or legs but cried out, pain shooting through her body. She was hurt, but she could move, but she couldn't get out, but she wasn't broken, but she was trapped and alone, and oh god, oh god, oh god, NO! She was bleeding from her arm, her hands, her head. Adaine was sticky with blood, not all of it hers, and the smell of it rose up into her nostrils and made her sick. She felt like she was going to drown in that small, hot, dark space. Adaine could hear the chanting of a spell, and her wounds partially healed, but she was still trapped, and she couldn't get out or see anything and everything was so loud. WHY did it have to be so loud?

Adaine could hear sounds of fighting outside the car, spells and screams and curses. Gorgug grunted and bellowed as he forced his way out, the horrible shriek of metal on metal cutting through her head as the half-orc forced the car off the guard rail. Her world spun so that she was facing the guard rail, staring down at bits of tiefling and shredded metal on the pavement. Her friends cried, pain and fury ringing straight to her quivering heart. _Oh god no, please no, oh god no_. Blood pounded in her ears. Somewhere in the back of her mind that stupid identify spell commented on her situation, but it was all white noise, more stimuli to confuse and harass her. The engine continued to sputter and steam, elementals screaming as they fought to break free. More metal crunched outside. _No no no no no no no NO!_

The roar of motorcycles came to a sudden stop, and Adaine could only hear her own panting breaths, too loud in the tiny, hostile space. She struggled against the sides of the car, but she still couldn't free herself.

"Somebody get me outta this car!" Adaine screamed. "Let me outta here, let me out! Get me outta the car!" Gorgug held up the car for her to squeeze out, crying furiously now that his rage had left him. Adaine slid out to the ground, and Kristen grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, muttering a healing prayer. With everything but her terrible road rash gone, Adaine turned to see Fabian pulling Fig out as well. Riz wormed his was free on his own, the goblin's small frame avoiding the sharp metal edges of the wrecked vehicle.

"Everyone run away from the car, it's definitely gonna explode," Fig urged, scrambling to her feet and taking off down the highway. The others hurried after her. Fight or flight kicked in, and Adaine automatically followed. Adaine was at the back of the group, struggling to keep up on a badly skinned leg, when she noticed someone was missing. Where was Machaira? Adaine turned, looking in all directions, but she couldn't see her friend anywhere.

"Machaira?" She called. No light, exotic voice answered her. "Machaira, where are you?" No deep growls responded. "Guys, where's Machaira?" Fig and Gorgug turned to look at her, frowning. Suddenly Fig gasped. Adaine met her gaze and immediately knew what the bard was thinking. The three turned back toward the car, stumbling over debris.

Adaine had a head start on the others and made it to the back of the car first. The side facing the road was so thoroughly crushed that she couldn't see through it. Fortunately, Gorgug had widened the gap between the car and the guard rail when he pushed his way out. Adaine got on her hands and knees, crawling under the car. She prayed that her friend hadn't suffered the same fate as Scorching Ray. At first, she couldn't see anything. Impatiently waiting for her dark vision to adjust to the gloomy space, Adaine feared that there would be nothing to find. What she did find was almost worse.

A small bundle of clothes and fur lay on the pavement below back seat, ominously still. Blood saturated the body. Chunks of fur and flesh lay on the ground. Rips in her clothes revealed red skin stripped of fur and flayed from muscle by friction. Something red/black and pulsing showed through a hole in the tabaxi's side where the metal of the car had pierced her. A gash in her head yawned into a black space. If Adaine peered at the wound close enough, she could almost see – NO. Adaine refused to believe she could see that.

_Ah, yes,_ the identify spell said in Adaine's head. _This is what happens when you don't wear your seat belt_.

"Machaira, come on, it's not safe here," Adaine said to her friend. "You need to get up. We have to go." She yelled out to Fig and Gorgug. "Guys, she's down here. Go get Kristen."

_I doubt she can hear you_. The identify spell told her. _This tabaxi appears to be unconscious and suffering from massive organ failure_.

"What's wrong with her?" Adaine and Fig asked simultaneously.

_This specimen appears to have been shot several times with bullets cursed with infernal magic, then crushed under a car. _"No fucking shit." Adaine yelled.

"What?" Fig asked. Adaine ignored her.

_Medically, several internal organs have come loose from the connective structures holding them in place. Her head has been sliced all the way through the cranium, narrowly missing the brain. She is exsanguinating heavily from several puncture wounds and internal injuries. If she had not already undergone several traumatic injuries in the past, as the healed fractures on her skeleton suggests, this tabaxi would most likely have already died from shock._ Oh god no, no, no.

"Guys, she's hurt. We have to help her out." Adaine tried to pull Machaira toward her, but she couldn't get leverage under the car, and Machaira probably weighed twenty pounds more than her. Her hand felt cooler than it had that afternoon. Adaine tugged, knees digging painfully into the asphalt. The limp form scraped slowly toward her, heavy and unhelpful. The pulsing thing in her side shifted disgustingly as she slid closer. Adaine pulled again, but Machaira's body had stopped moving. Her arm was trapped under the back of the car. Adaine tried to use mage hand to move her, but Machaira was far too heavy. All she succeeded in doing was shifting her tail to the side. Fig yelled for Kristen. Elemental spirits continued to screech from the engine, struggling to break free.

"Machaira is stuck under the car." Adaine called out. "Gorgug, can you lift it?" Gorgug grabbed the car and strained. Metal crumpled under his grasp. Now that Adaine had dropped her mage hand spell, Machaira's tail lay limp on the ground. Machaira's tail was **always** moving. She was always getting embarrassed by it.

"Come on, wake up," Adaine insisted. She knew that Machaira couldn't hear her, but she needed her friend to get up, and she didn't know what else to do. One of Machaira's eyes was fully closed. The other was half-open, the yellow orb dull and unfocused. That, more than anything, drove home how real this was. Machaira's eyes glowed not just with light but a warmth unlike anyone else she had ever met.

Gorgug raised the car an inch, then two. The half-orc bellowed, no longer raging but scared for their friend. Machaira slid a little further forward in her grasp. Her jaws were slack, blood slowly oozing from between her hooked teeth.

"You can't be dead," Adaine muttered.

_She is, in fact, not dead, only dying_, the identify spell informed her. _Her mind is not currently present in her body, but communing with her patron, the war goddess Bast_.

"Bast better be telling her to get her butt back down here," Adaine snapped at the voice in her head, turning off the spell. She knew it was a stupid description, but the aspect of Machaira she had most come to like was that she was alive. Not in the sense of breathing and thinking, but in the sense that Machaira radiated passion. Adaine had only gotten to know her for all of two days, and she wasn't ready to give that up anytime soon. If Machaira had survived traumatic injuries before, then she was damn well going to do it now.

Adaine strained, managing to pull Machaira into her arms. She could feel the smallest puff of air against her cheek. Hope flared in her soul as Adaine determinedly lugged her backward out of the car. The thick ruff of fur that bristled over her neck was spiky with drying blood. Adaine knew her friend would hate that when she woke up. If – no, when. Fig appeared at Adaine's side, hoisting Machaira out of her arms and over the car. The bard and wizard had to work together, heaving to shift the scout. Gorgug dropped the car and reached to take the body from them.

"Be careful, she's hurt pretty badly," Adaine cautioned. She could see the rest of the party gathered around Johnny Spell's body. Kristen was hobbling over, using her staff to push herself faster. Gorgug ran to meet her, Adaine and Fig trotting after him. He stumbled over Machaira's tail. Adaine winced, but the tabaxi didn't react. Just that afternoon Machaira had been bounding up the library stairs before her, tail held aloft like a banner, eyes gleaming with joy and affection. Minutes ago she'd been a snarling monster, fiery eyes blazing, undaunted by the infernal poison coursing through her veins. The greasers hurt her, but they couldn't drop her. Now… she was just so still.

Gorgug had set Machaira down in front of Kristen. The cleric prayed over her body, face covered in sweat, arms shaking as she tried to stabilize the rogue. Adaine watched her head wound slowly close, bone and muscle and skin knitting back together. The hole in her side grew new skin, then fur, but Machaira did not wake up.

"Is she going to be okay?" Adaine asked, stopping by the rogue's feet. No, this was not a question. They were not losing her to a bunch of tiefling greasers that said 'Daddy-o'. Kristen sat back on her haunches, panting, skin pale with exertion.

"Gimme… give me a minute," she gasped, wiping her face with her staff hand. Adaine wanted to scream at her to get a move on. She briefly wondered if she would be this upset if she found one of the others like this. If she was honest with herself, no. She'd still be plenty worried. She'd try to save them. But she hadn't grown as close to the others as she had with the tabaxi. In the past two days, she'd formed bonds with her party that were stronger than any familial connections she'd ever had, stronger than any other friendships she'd made at Hudol. It was amazing how close you could grow to people when you shared such bizarre and traumatic experiences. But Machaira was the only one who'd taken an interest in her personally, taken the time to get to know her. She felt much closer to the scout than any of the others. As Kristen took a deep breath and began another healing spell, Adaine was almost intimidated by just how important Machaira had become to her.

Gorgug was still crying. Riz and Fabian discussed what to do next over Johnny's body. Fig played a song of rest.

"Jazz? You play jazz?" Kristen asked, looking up at her. As the bard's song empowered her healing, more of the tabaxi's injuries began to fade. Despite herself, Adaine was rather interested in the song Fig was singing. She had only ever heard classical music before.

After a few seconds of nervous waiting, Machaira's chest heaved. Her tail twitched once, twice. She squeezed her eyes tighter and groaned. Slowly, the tabaxi turned over onto her stomach. Machaira managed to raise herself about three inches off the ground before spewing bloody vomit all over the road. She tried to roll herself away but slipped and fell into her own sick instead. Adaine was smiling so broadly it hurt her face. She quickly cast the version of the mend spell that siphoned fluids away (mostly vomit these days).

"Thanks," Machaira groaned. "I really wanna play the tough girl routine, but everything hurts."

"Oh, yeah, you still have internal bleeding," Kristen told her. "I'll get on that."

"…'preciate it," Machaira grunted. When Kristen had fully healed her, the rogue rolled over onto her back, eyes still held shut. "Thanks, guys. I think I'm just gonna lay here for a bit. Let me know when it's time to go, ok?"

"We totally gotta go break into the dance studio." Fig insisted.

"Yes, we killed them all, now we can go back there." Kristen reasoned.

"Why are we breaking into so many things?" Adaine screamed.

" 'Cause it's adventure," Kristen responded.

"Yeah." Great. Fig and Kristen finally agreed on something, and it was breaking and entering. They had almost all died. Couldn't they just go get some ice cream and call it a day? "I'm gonna go see what's up with Johnny Spells. You gonna be ok?" Machaira nodded from the ground. The others gathered together. Adaine listened to their conversation but stayed with Machaira. She still felt shaky, irrationally afraid that something might yet take her friend away from her.

"Did you have a panic attack?" Machaira asked, voice rough. Adaine bit her lip and nodded.

"Yes," she admitted after realizing Machaira's eyes were still closed. "I was terrified. You were under the car, and I couldn't, I couldn't get you out. And…" Adaine closed her eyes. Now that Machaira wasn't about to die, her panic started to return from whatever part of her mind it had been shunted off to during the crisis.

"You got me out?" Machaira asked. Adaine looked down at her.

"Gorgug… Gorgug had to lift the car. I just dragged you out. I, I… I was terrified that I would be too slow." She admitted.

"You dragged me out of an overturned car during a panic attack." Machaira finally cracked open her eyes. She looked tired but fiercely proud. Adaine still wasn't used to seeing that. The tabaxi quirked a small smile. Adaine stared at her and hesitantly nodded. Machaira started to laugh but caught herself, wincing. "Adaine the brave strikes again."

"How is it that you're the one who almost died, but I'm the one getting the pep talk?" Adaine asked, grinning again. She could already feel Machaira's presence warming her, panic slipping away like snowmelt.

"Almost dying isn't an excuse for an adventurer to be a bad friend," Machaira murmured.

"You're a great friend," Adaine promised. Machaira clumsily patted her knee.

"Thank you." Machaira closed her eyes again, exhaling deeply. "For, you know, saving my life and all, but also for just... being there." Machaira's voice was heavy with emotion, affection and deep appreciation. Adaine didn't have a proper response to that, so for a moment she let her weary friend rest, using the minute of quiet to breath and calm herself.

"What did Bast say?" Adaine asked eventually. Machaira looked up at her in surprise. "My, uh, identify spell told me you were talking to her. I was… really scared you were going away." Machaira gently squeezed her leg. Her touch was soothing, real and present, grounding Adaine in the moment.

"Bast told me, verbatim, 'to stop being a pussy and get back there'," Machaira told her.

"I like her," Adaine said automatically. Machaira either laughed or coughed.

"You would," she said. Adaine placed a hand on top of Machaira's, overjoyed to feel the warmth back.

"Hey, Adaine! Can you help us identify some stuff?" Riz asked. The goblin frowned at Machaira on the ground, as if he hadn't noticed anything was wrong until just now.

"I can cast identify, but I need ten minutes, and I don't want to sit at a crime scene for that." She called back.

"Plus, that car is gonna explode any second now," Fig reminded them. Machaira growled and slowly stood up. Adaine reached out to help her, but the tabaxi seemed to be fine now, even if she was exhausted and covered in road rash. _We're all in the same boat there_, Adaine thought. As the girls made their way over to the others, Riz thumbed through a little black book.

"Sex book?" Machaira and Adaine both asked.

"But he didn't fuck," Fig exclaimed. She had swapped out her own jacket for Johnny's. What was with her and wearing things she found on dead bodies? Weirder, Gorgug was wearing a jacket from another member of the Dance Squad. Was that their gang name? Adaine wasn't sure, but that felt right. Realizing how fucked their clothes were, Adaine began to cast mend on everyone. As soon as she mended Riz's clothes, the goblin's eyes widened; and he threw up.

"No, Riz!" Kristen complained. "That was on my backpack this time."

"Oh please," Gorgug begged.

"The Ball, come on," Fabian groaned.

"I found a clue, when I hear clues I throw up because I'm excited." Riz explained. "It's not a bad vomit; it's a good vomit."

"The Ball, you have to work this out, alright?" Fabian told him. "You can't keep – you'll ruin – if we…" Fabian dissolved into stuttering again. Adaine then noticed he was riding Johnny's living hell bike and said hell bike was coaching him on how to flirt with Fig in muttered Infernal. She took a deep breath. _Take everything one step at a time_, she told herself.

"I love addressing him as The Ball, seriously," Fig snickered.

"What else are we supposed to call The Ball?" Machaira asked.

"He's The Ball." Fabian confirmed. Riz, either to spite Fabian or to hide from the official standing of his nickname, climbed inside Fabian's backpack.

"Get out, okay," Fabian insisted, trying to swat Riz without removing his backpack.

"I need a minute," Riz insisted. Gorgug unzipped the bag to reveal Riz holding a flashlight in his mouth as he flipped through the book. As the group, sans Fabian, laughed, a car pulled up with a little family of Halflings inside, all holding ice cream cones. The man in the driver's seat rolled down his window.

"Well, do you guys need a ride into town? What's going on?" He asked.

"Yeah, can we swing by the ice cream place again?" Fig asked with a smile. "I think your kids would like more ice cream." The Halfling arched an eyebrow and looked at Fig, then over to his kids.

"Double ice cream? Anything for you kids!" He ruffled one of his kids on the head. "We're going to get ice cream again! Eat your ice cream fast." The kids horked ice cream as fast as they could. Adaine was simultaneously jealous of those children and thrilled to get her second ice cream ever. As the others approached the car, Fabian revved his new motorcycle.

"Hey now, you gonna put a helmet on?" The Halfling asked Fabian seriously.

"I will," Fabian promised meekly, apparently sharing the group sentiment that this was the best Halfling family of all time. "I just have to go buy one. I promise I will."

"Ya' gotta," the Halfling insisted. " 'Cause there's nothing funny about not being safe."

"No, of course," Fabian agreed. "But, I will – "

"We almost got hit by a biker earlier. No, we did get hit." He pointed to a dent in the side of his car where the greaser had slammed into him.

"You still got ice cream?" Riz asked from the backpack.

"Oh, really," Fabian asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"We had, there was a crazy, there was a car driving right past, there was a bunch of bikers, and this one guy, he just plowed right into the middle of the car, and almost ruined the ice cream truck." The Halfling exclaimed, gesturing with his hands as he narrated. Fortunately, the Halflings didn't recognize them, the overturned car that initiated the accident, or the nearby bodies of the other bikers. Small, wonderful, blind people these Halflings were.

"Let me guess, did he flip and land on the back of another car?" Kristen asked, smiling as she nearly undermined double ice cream.

"What? He did exactly that! He flipped all the way through the air – "

"That's been happening around here lately," Kristen shot her teammates a conspiratorial wink. Machaira closed her eyes and sighed exhaustedly.

"We've been hearing stories about that," Fabian said, trying to cover for Kristen's suspicious statement with a too-wide grin.

"You know what it is," the Halfling started. "It's that these kids are doing drugs." Quiet affirmations echoed from the group as Fig tried to brush the smell of cloves off her shirt.

"That's what I think too," Gorgug chimed in a bit late.

"That's why we all want to get ice cream," Fabian informed the Halflings.

"We're very safe," Adaine promised, quickly siphoning the vomit off Riz again. "Real clean cut." Machaira's tail flicked around her legs, and the tabaxi smiled her small, toothless smile.

"No, no, not The Ball," Fabian's new hell bike protested as the others piled into the car and left Riz with Fabian. "Get the girl, get the tiefling." Adaine stared in horror at the Halflings, but they didn't seem to find this peculiar in the least.

"I'm glad you recognize him as The Ball, that feels good." Fabian told his bike.

"I hate this ball," the motorcycle grumbled. Riz handed his business card to the motorcycle's skull. Flames erupted from the skull, incinerating the card.

"Please don't solicit my bicycle," Fabian asked The Ball.

"Ah, greetings and salutations, my bike friend," Riz said, promptly ignoring Fabian and proffering a hand to the flaming skull.

"Master," the bike redirected its attention to Fabian. "Together, we will conquer this world of mortals and send their souls to Hell!"

"Yes, yes, in due time, bike." Fabian assured the hell beast. "Now, to the ice cream shop." The rest of the party erupted in laughter. En route, the others caught Adaine up to speed about what they found on Johnny Spells. Adaine absorbed the information, trying to parcel out what this might mean. Fabian's devilish motorcycle roared outside, illuminating the evening with hellfire. Adaine sighed slowly through her nose and grabbed Machaira's hand. The tabaxi had her eyes closed but squeezed her hand reassuringly. Adaine laid her head on Machaira's shoulder and dozed for the rest of the trip to the ice cream shop, breathing in her scent and listening to her heartbeat. She had Machaira back and was about to get her second ice cream of the night. Adaine took that time to be thankful for miracles large and small.


	6. Pixie and the Most Pit: Part 1- Clues and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isn't high school wonderful? Always confused and scared, constantly feeling alone and horny. Wait...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. As you can tell, this is a long chapter. The next one will probably also be a decent length. Again, lots of character development during downtime. And the chapters will be getting darker from here on out. Mentions of abuse and neglect for those of you who want a specific warning.
> 
> For those of you who have troubling imagining it, Machaira's mane is more like the ruff of fur around a tiger's neck than a lion's mane.
> 
> And don't worry, Adaine's POV will be returning soon.
> 
> Also, I did the math. If the crystal in Adaine's orb has the same density as quartz, it weighs 314lbs.... what the actual fuck.

**Chapter 5: Pixie and the Mosh Pit Part 1: Clues and Confessions**

Normally, a conversation with Bast more or less ruined Machaira's entire day. While the goddess had her full devotion, Bast was a terrifying presence to speak to, mean on her good days and downright scornful on her bad days. The war goddess had expressed pride in Machaira's courage, but she'd also snarled to get her ass back to the mortal plane. Joining Bast's followers had been one of Machaira's best decisions ever, but standing in the face of her eternal fury usually left her tired and shaky. Add that to the fact that she had almost died in a car crash and was covered in horrible road rash, Machaira wasn't having the best night ever.

Despite this, the tabaxi found that she was rather enjoying herself. Basrar's Soda Fountain was a clean, chrome monument to the best ice cream Machaira had ever tasted. Rich, heavy, and perfectly cold, favor notes of chocolate, vanilla bean, and hazelnut sang a divine chorus on her tongue. Her malt had been nearly a full liter and so filling Machaira was starting to get sleepy. The only problem with her shake was that she didn't have any more of it. Machaira licked her lips, searching for any trace of sugary goodness that might cling there.

Adaine cracked a smile on Machaira's right, watching her out of the corner of her eye. Machaira had been a little surprised when the high elf not only cuddled up to her in the car but insisted on sitting next to her at the big circular booth. Intellectually, Machaira knew she was shaken by the night's events and was just filling a subconscious need to ensure Machaira was actually alive. The first few brushes with death usually took some time to properly sink in. Still, it had been so long since Machaira had shared any kind of intimacy, much less something so wholesome, that she welcomed the attention. As Machaira sucked the last drops of ice cream from her straw and Adaine snickered, the rogue felt a surge of affection for this young wizard who actually cared about her. Riz cleared his throat to get to business, and Machaira forced her drowsy brain to focus, curling her tail over her lap. The end of her tail spilled over onto Adaine, but the diviner did not react.

First, they took stock of their findings. Johnny's little black book, which was largely taken up by dance rehearsals, also referenced a monthly meeting labeled 'Teat Time', the names of six missing girls, and a series of crystal numbers and activation PIN codes, all but one of which were crossed out. The last number most likely aligned with the cheap, store-packaged burner crystal they had also taken off of him. More disturbingly, Adaine held onto Johnny's switchblade, which her detect magic spell had identified as the connection to his warlock powers. Last and certainly worst, they held a crystal palimpsest, heavily scraped and scarred.

"Can anybody detect what is inside this thing?" Riz asked, tapping the palimpsest.

"I can try," Gorgug offered.

"Somebody not Gorgug," Riz clarified. Everyone tittered. Adaine sat a touch straighter and clasped her hands on the table around the palimpsest.

"Well, I, uh, yesterday, earlier, during the fight," she stammered quietly. "Cast, um, identify on it. And, um… essentially, this is a crystal, uh, whose – all of the identifying, uh, nature of it… has been scraped off in some way. Um, and then trapped inside it is… a girl."

"What?" Fabian asked, breaking the moment of silence.

"I don't know. I mean it seems very odd. I don't know how a person could get trapped inside a crystal." Adaine admitted.

"Could you talk to her?" Gorgug asked.

"No, she just was…" Adaine mimed pressing against a wall with her hands, pursing her lips and stretching her eyes wider. Machaira held back a grin with difficulty. "Sad inside it."

"So, there's just a girl pressed up against the edge of this crystal?" Fabian could barely finish the thought he was stuttering so much, hands working in circles.

"You're saying that as if we don't live in a world where magic is possible." Adaine critiqued.

"Well, ok, alright, I just never experienced putting people inside of small balls." Fabian protested, waving his hands about to mime crushing something down.

"You can put people inside of all kinds of things." Machaira kept her initial reaction to Adaine's claim to herself. This was not the time for dirty jokes. "I just have never seen this."

"I threw up in your backpack yesterday." Riz reminded Fabian. "Sorry, today, this morning."

"I mean, that's not the same." Adaine put Riz down. "I feel like you're trying to make that sound analogous when it's really not."

"I'm a goblin," Riz said, as if that improved his point.

"No one put you inside a small ball, you are The Ball," Machaira smirked. Let the smart people actually contribute to the conversation. Riz sighed and sat back to the party's laughter, defeated again by his nickname. The crystal was in no way ball-shaped, but they were going to milk that title for every cheap laugh they could. The djinn who owned the store, Basrar, wended his way over with a tray of ice creams.

"Ah, my friends," he greeted them cheerfully. "Welcome, one and all. Here you go." He handed out their next round of sweets. Machaira eagerly seized her malt, almost cackling with glee. Small miracles. "Can I get you anything else? Simply say the words, and your wish is my command." Fig spiked her milkshake the second she got her hands on it. "That is not allowed in here." Basrar politely informed her.

"Could you not wait thirty seconds for him to go away?" Adaine asked around her giggles.

"Fine, fine, I'll put it back," Fig relented, trying to pour her milkshake from the giant flared glass into her tiny flask opening.

"Mmm, gross." Basrar commented, maintaining his friendly demeanor. "Okay!"

"Also, doesn't that flask still have the Friends spell on it?" Adaine asked.

"I keep almost dosing myself," Fig laughed, putting a hand to her forehead.

"Alright, well, I hope everything else is good. Let me know if I can get you anything at all." Basrar told them.

"Thank you so much," Adaine said with her best refined high elf manners: straight back, neat and pearly smile, calm bearing, and genuine gratitude in her voice. Machaira felt… scruffy next to her. She reached behind her head to scratch at her mane. Her ruff was spiky with dried blood, and she absolutely _hated _it. Machaira and the rest of her party thanked Basrar in turn. Machaira took a sip of her malt, the sweet treat soothing her self-deprecation.

"Yes, and of course," Basrar placed his hands together, smile fixed on his face. Machaira frowned. Basrar's friendliness was real enough, but there was something… off about his expression.

"Um, what's up with you, man?" Kristen asked.

"What?" Basrar started. "I am good. I am good." Now Machaira could see the rigidity in his face.

"How's business?" Fig asked.

"Business is great." Basrar responded. "No overhead because, of course, I can make all the ice cream in the world with wishes, so…" The joy in his voice didn't reach his eyes.

"What about the family life?" Riz asked, playing with his spoon. "How's that going?" Basrar's smile shrank, and he shrugged.

"It's good." The djinn's voice was so quiet even Machaira struggled to hear it.

"Thank you so much for this ice cream." Adaine thanked him louder this time, pouring appreciation into her voice. While she clearly wanted them to stop badgering the poor man, the thankfulness was very real. Clearly Adaine was new to ice cream and already addicted. Machaira could sympathize as she could rarely afford such treats.

"Thank you so much," Kristen repeated.

"It's the best I've ever had," Machaira added, gulping the top fifth of her malt. Adaine snorted.

"How would you know? You're barely tasting it." Adaine accused.

"If it wasn't so tasty I wouldn't take such big sips," Machaira reasoned. Adaine laughed again.

"Hey, if you wouldn't mind," Kristen asked Basrar, pulling out an official signup card from the church of Helio. "I'm starting a prayer chain. If you want to just fill out this card, I'll add you to my prayer chain." Basrar pursed his lips.

"That is ok. I am a creature made of elements. The gods are meaningless to me. When I die, my soul will turn into pure icy wind, and my consciousness will evaporate. And eventually, my story will be gone forever."

"Yo, that is so metal," Fig said as she tipped Basrar. The rest of the party stared at him, sympathy welling among them for this magical spirit with the same fears as any humanoid.

"Hold on, what was that last part?" Kristen said shakily, writing on the back of the card.

"Sorry?"

"I'm going to pray for you, for all that stuff." Kristen said. Basrar's smile strained. Machaira clenched her jaw. Kristen was a sweet girl, but she was hopelessly naïve. She was so fanatical about her god that her attempts to help people usually involved shitting all over their beliefs. Basrar's emotional terror of death had no spiritual condolence, and to say that she would pray for someone's existential fear of the impermanence of his consciousness and relative cosmic irrelevance was insensitive to a complex degree.

"My story?" Basrar began.

"Story will be gone forever?" Kristen jotted down.

"If you guys want any ice cream, you can come up to the counter." Basrar told them.

"Thank you, Basrar," Fabian said.

"Thank you so much," Adaine repeated.

"We really appreciate you," Machaira told him.

"Very good, okay." Basrar whisked off to the opposite side of the room.

"What's his story, right?" Riz asked.

"Yeah, right?" Fabian echoed.

"But anyways, so, like, I don't know anything about crystals, but maybe your A.V. club freaks will know something?" Adaine proposed.

"Maybe," Riz shrugged.

"Can they hack these crystals?" Fig asked excitedly. Riz frowned and turned to Kristen.

"Kristen, can you see if it's, like, evil of something? Or if that's a friend that's in there?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Kristen acquiesced. "I'll do – I can cast detect magic?"

"Can you cast detect good and evil?" Riz asked.

"Cool, yeah, I'll cast detect good and evil on this," Kristen agreed.

"I think we just wanna make sure this isn't a demon person." Riz proposed.

"Yeah, I would love to not let a demon person escape from a crystal unless it's a really hot one." Adaine mumbled the last part so quietly Machaira almost missed it.

"Tell me, Adaine," Machaira asked, propping her chin on her hands and smiling wickedly. "What does a hot demon person look like, and what exactly would you want with it if we did release it, hmm?" Adaine blushed a deep red and stared at her lap, expression a cross between mortification and slight arousal. She muttered something entirely unintelligible. "I at least hope you would share your really hot demon with the rest of us." Machaira teased. Adaine's blush deepened, and the group laughed. Deciding she'd poked at her friend enough, Machaira flicked her under the chin with her tail and sat back, bumping Adaine's shoulder with her own to take the sting out of her words.

Since Kristen could detect neither alignment on the palimpsest, Riz concluded it was probably just a normal person. After studying it for himself, Riz further theorized that the scratching and fracturing of the crystal was helping to trap the soul within it, but the original mechanisms that were supposed to keep it safe were fucked.

"Yeah, we need that A.V. club," Fig admitted.

"So, we gotta get this person out." Riz said. "This might be one of the missing girls."

"Sure, and if that's the case, maybe we should, I don't know, give this to the police or someone more – better suited to handle this." Fabian protested, gesticulating and stuttering more urgently. "We're going to give, uh, what, the possible soul of a girl to a bunch of nerds?" Riz tried to stammer a rebuttal.

"Why are you such a goody two-shoes?" Adaine challenged. Machaira noted that her nerves faded away when she was confronting someone, as if crossing the initial hurdle of uncertainty left her doubts behind. Machaira liked the slight change in scent and the confident posture the wizard adopted when she stood up to someone. It was a side Machaira wished her friend presented more often. Fig tried to question Fabian, but the fighter shouted her down.

"I'm not a goody two-shoes, alright. I don't wanna – what are we doing? I mean, we're all currently sitting in an ice cream shop, covered in blood, alright, with the soul of a person."

"Yeah, and we're gonna save it." Fig replied like it was the easiest thing in the world. Machaira reached over and high-fived her. Fabian at least made one good point today: Fig was rather remarkable when she wasn't unconscious.

"Now, the problem with going to the cops, of course," Bud, the Halfling father, began. All around the table teens sputtered and choked on their desert. They had completely forgotten that the Halfling family, the Cubby's, were at the table with them. Machaira wheezed, teeth clenched to restrain her laughter and hold in her mouthful of malt.

"Is that there's just no counting on them to do the right thing." Bud Cubby continued. "There's some good cops, of course, but mostly police are enforcing the status quo, right? And that's mostly gonna benefit the people who are already in power."

"Have you had personal experience with this?" Fig asked. It was Daisy Cubby that answered.

"Oh yeah, for sure, for sure. Listen, ya know, uh, people get a real bad rap from those, uh, police officers. Ya know, Halflings don't get the worst of it, 'cause we have that sorta model minority thing goin' on, but we certainly aren't always – people say Halflings have, you know, sticky fingers. We get looked at when little trinkets go missing and stuff like that, so, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I know," Machaira said, toasting the Cubby's with her malt.

"Yeah, you know, I bet you do," Daisy replied. "I don't mean to be rude or nothin', but tabaxis, you, uh, you get some of the worst of it when it comes to bad raps. Police are always going after the cat folk about stealing." Machaira grunted, smirking congenially at the Halflings. She loved this little family.

"There's enough tabaxis in thieves' guilds that I don't 100% blame them," she moderated. "But yeah, it gets old after a while. Still, I'll take 'thief' over 'man-eater' any day of the week."

"You're not serious?" Fabian asked.

"Oh, no, yeah, that's another one," Bud tapped the table. "We had a tabaxi neighbor, about seven years ago? Some kid went missing, and the first person the cops went to was him. Arrested him on the spot. Turned out the kid just got lost in the woods, but it ruined the poor man's reputation. He moved away few months later."

"Why did the police suspect him?" Riz asked. Machaira stared Riz dead in the eyes and flashed her teeth without warning. The goblin jumped, putting a hand to his heart.

"At the end of the days, cops are humanoids like anyone else," she told the goblin. "There's good ones, and bad ones." Machaira didn't look over at Adaine. She didn't want to see her pity, or worse, fear.

"And a whole bunch that are neither," Bud chipped in. "They're just following a set of cultural rules without regard to the individual people involved."

"Do you send your kids to school?" Fig asked cautiously.

"Oh, sure."

"Okay, just checking," Fig said quickly, hands clasped in front of her.

"The whole family goes to Mumple. We're all Mumple people."

"Oh, cool, cool." Fig smiled. A few others murmured good things about Mumple, perhaps remembering how hard they dunked on the school yesterday.

"What do you do?" Adaine asked. "What's your job?"

"What do I do?" Daisy asked. Adaine hummed a confirmation.

"Oh, I work as a waitress over at Krom's."

"That's great," Adaine smiled that neat, friendly smile that made everyone immediately like her, and Daisy responded in kind.

"Oh, I live right near there," Fig told her. "I've been there a lot whenever I've been fighting with my mom. Bitch," She muttered quietly. "Oh, not you, her." The Cubby's looked at Fig sadly but not unsympathetically. Daisy reached over to pat her arm.

"And I'm a postal worker," Bud offered. "I work for the post office."

"Interesting." Fig was such a good actor that she actually did appear interested.

"Well, thank you," Fabian told them. The group looked at each other, trying to gauge each other's opinions on the Cubby's. Machaira thought they seemed wonderful and took Adaine's relaxed smile as confirmation that she'd read them correctly. Bud leaned forward over the table.

"The problem here, is, of course, if you go to the cops, right, and you get a real snake, then all of a sudden he's gonna get his buddies on the inside. They're gonna hold that thin blue line there, and you're gonna be in a whole heaping, helping of trouble."

"You guys are just so innocent in everything you're saying, but it feels like it shouldn't come out of your mouth." Fig admitted. Machaira, Riz, and Adaine winced a bit. Bud and Daisy looked at each other and addressed Fig directly.

"Listen, we're law abiding citizens. We don't belong to the thieves' guild. We're not any kind of, ya know, nothin' to be worried about." Bud turned to the rest of the table and continued. "Now, what you could do is make an anonymous call to the cops, right? You get one of them to show up, and you bag 'em, right? Throw a sack over his head real quick." The entire party stiffened. Machaira and Adaine shared a grin. These were the best Halflings ever.

"Sorry," Fabian began. "Are you, are you, are you suggesting – "

"I'm not advocatin' that ya kill a cop, alright?" Bud promised. A chorus of approval rose from the party. "I'm not advocatin' that you put a pig down." The party stopped talking. "I'm saying, what you should do – "

"My mother is a cop, good sir," Riz said firmly. The goblin detective had his face set in a hard frown.

"Alright, well, ya know," Bud muttered, suddenly less friendly.

"Thank you so much for these ice creams," Adaine spoke up again, smiling warmly at the Cubby's. "And for picking us up on the side of the road."

"I kind of agree with you though," Kristen nodded to Bud.

"You're really cool," Machaira assured them.

"Well I hope you kiddos enjoyed the ice cream," Bud said, gathering his family to go. "That's on us, of course." The party began to protest. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I don't mean to – I gotta insist, alright. You guys flipped that car, and I just want to you to know that I'll be fucking dead in the ground before I say something to anybody, alright?"

"We appreciate that," Riz laughed. Machaira leaned over to high-five all three of the Cubby children.

"Your parents rock," she told them.

"You guys are so ride or die," Riz said. Adaine echoed him, thin shoulders shaking with the effort of restraining her giggles.

"If we ever need to go to the post office, sir, we will come to your window," Adaine assured Bud.

"Yeah, actually, it's great to know, because perhaps someday we might need someone who's connected like you." Fig said.

"That's for sure. Take it down from the inside. Alright, later guys!" The Cubby's left with a cheery wave.

"Take it down from the inside?" Kristen repeated quietly.

"I think it's cool that these Halflings are anarcho-socialists," Adaine told the group. "I think it's very cool."

"Yeah, that's what I'm definitely sitting here thinking," Fig agreed.

"We could not have possibly been found on the side of the road by a better group of people," Machaira said, slurping the last of her malt.

"Yeah, but that was definitely a wakeup call," Fig said.

"Well, I feel like the A.V. club is maybe still the best bet." Gorgug brought the conversation back to its original debate.

"Yeah, I think we maybe want to hang onto this because we don't want it to just get thrown into evidence." Riz, despite his concerns, seemed to side with the Cubby's.

"Oh, Kristen, can you maybe do a detect good and evil on this warlock switchblade that seems to have a lot of terrible – "

"It's definitely evil," Fig told Adaine bluntly.

"Well, yeah, but just to, you know – "

"Here, I'll do a detect evil." Fig cut Adaine off again as she snatched up the switchblade. "Yup, it's evil." She tossed it back in front of Adaine.

"Don't be such a bitch about it," Adaine chastised, smiling despite herself.

"You're right," Fig admitted with a sheepish grin. "That was uncalled for. I'm sorry, man."

"Did you do Identify?" Kristen asked.

"Oh, yes, I only did that on the palimpsest." Adaine admitted. "I will ritual cast Identify on the switchblade then. Give me ten minutes." Adaine held her hands over the switchblade and began to concentrate, eyes glowing faintly blue as arcane runes hovered and spun around the switchblade. "Don't steal my milkshake while I'm doing this." Adaine warned. Machaira snatched her milkshake away from Gorgug, who had already tried to take it for himself. "Thank you, Mach – hey!" Machaira swiped her straw through the top of Adaine's whipped cream and lapped up the dollop of sugar.

"To be fair, your actual milkshake remains untouched." The tabaxi reasoned. Adaine glared at her good-naturedly. Riz left to go use the bathroom, and Machaira performed her best friend duty of guarding the rest of Adaine's milkshake from Fig and Gorgug. After ten minutes, Adaine began to relay information from her identify spell, beginning by pressing the button to reveal a comb inside instead of a blade.

"Oh, that's so much lamer," Adaine lamented. "So, this is Johnny's phylactery, or pact boon. It's a symbol of a promise between Johnny and his benefactor, the demonic prince who gave Johnny his powers."

"Is there any way we can destroy it without releasing the demonic powers within it?" Adaine asked the voice in her head.

"No, Adaine, ask who his benefactor is," Fig urged. "It might be my dad."

"Is that even something an identify spell could know?" Machaira asked.

"Isn't your dad another tiefling?" Adaine asked.

"No, my dad's a demon."

"Oh, okay."

"We don't know how high up the chain he goes." For once Fig's expression was genuine, a vulnerability from not knowing who she was. Machaira felt her heart go out toward the tiefling.

"Who's the benefactor?" Adaine asked the voice again. Pause. "It's Gorthalax the Insatiable, a fallen angel of Sol, the sun god. He apparently fell from grace during the reign and fall of Kalvaxis, Emperor of the Red Waste. Oh, so it's one of yours." The last part was directed at Kristen.

"I didn't tell you guys this, but when I hid after the giant corn monster fight, some of the cops were looking at the crime scene and they were talking about how it wasn't arcane magic, it was holy magic." Riz informed them. "That it must have been made by a fallen angel or something like that, so this is all starting to add up." The group stared at him with wide eyes, daunted by the implications. Adaine stared off into space for a moment.

"The identify spell is the lamest person?" Adaine finally said, glancing about the group with half-slitted eyes. "But it just said that Johnny had behavioral taboos and obligations to fulfill to hold onto the comb."

"Well he couldn't fuck, right?" Riz said. Everyone sat up and gasped.

"Oh, he couldn't fuck," Adaine exclaimed.

"Clearly he couldn't fuck," Fabian laughed at the man he had killed under an hour ago. "OOO-kay."

"So, he's just a no fap guy?" Adaine asked. "He's getting his powers from no fap?"

"Not worth it." Machaira asserted, much to the group's delight.

"He's a no fap guy," Riz agreed. "But maybe it had something to do with the missing girls 'cause they're all in his little black book." They stopped laughing.

"He might have to offer up – " Gorgug started.

"He offers up the women that he wants to sleep with." Fig proposed. There was a rare moment of silence. "So he wants to sleep with the women and then he can't 'cause he has to offer them as a sacrifice."

"That is so twisted." Adaine declared, lip curling in disgust.

"I'm also no fap." Kristen said.

"I really hope Gorthalax isn't my daddy." Fig confessed.

"We assumed as much." Adaine said to Kristen.

"Kinda obvious." Machaira added.

"Pretty safe assumption." Fabian declared.

"Should we go?" Riz asked.

"I mean, it's the middle of the night," Fabian said. "Can we go?"

"Let's go to bed," Riz suggested. "A.V. club tomorrow."

"Yeah, first thing tomorrow." Fabian agreed.

"I'll see you guys at the A.V. club." Riz said.

"Cool," Fig began, biting her lip. "Well, um, hey guys, like, look, I know I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. I know I'm, like, hard to read. I'm, like, a locked book or whatever."

"No, we get it," Kristen assured her. "You just have a lot of daddy issues and do a lot of rebel stuff."

"You're very on the surface about it." Riz added. Gorgug was edging toward the door.

"Very obvious," Fabian told her. Adaine had one earpiece from her headphones in, listening to her messages.

"I just wanna say, like, I thought you all fought really valiantly, and, like, I was honored to drive down the highway of life with you."

"What about the actual highway?" Machaira asked.

"Okay, bye, that's enough." Fig shot out the booth and sprinted from the store, passing Gorgug in the aisle.

"Highway of life?" Gorgug asked.

"I was gonna say thank you and that I agreed, that I was glad we're friends but…" Riz trailed off laughing.

"She's tearing off down the street," Gorgug said, shading his eyes to look out the glass door.

"Fig definitely keeps us on our toes," Machaira commented.

"There she goes, gone," Riz whistled, watching from the window. "She's fast." Basrar wended his way over to the table.

"So, I hope that everything has been wonderful this evening, we will be closing up soon." He told them. "I noticed that your friend sprinted out of the ice cream shop, so I hope everything is okay.

"Can I ask you a magical question?" Adaine requested slowly. "I don't want to impose." Basrar's face lit up and he stood as straight as he could.

"Certainly! You can ask me anything. I will do my best. I want you to know, though, that if you are going to ask for a wish, I can grant any wish you want. It just has to be ice cream, okay?"

"Thank you, I've already had a lot of ice cream today." Even as Adaine turned him down, Machaira could hear her heartbeat pick up at the thought.

"Okay. Some people get really upset when you can't do non-ice cream things."

"What about if I wish for ice cream later," Adaine asked, sly grin stealing over her visage. "So that at a certain point – "

"I wanna do that too," Gorgug called out, jogging back to the table.

"I just get an ice cream at some point," Adaine clarified.

"If you'd like to wish for an ice cream later at an undetermined time, yes, I can do that." Basrar confirmed.

"Then I would like to wish for us all to get ice cream later at an undetermined time." Adaine could barely speak around her happy giggles. Machaira's smile wrapped around her fangs.

"You will all get ice cream later at an undetermined TIME." Basrar declared, clapping his hands together. Thunder boomed from his joined hands. Little winds of frosty magic swirled around the six teens present as a seventh whisked out the door after Fig.

"Here's my secret," Adaine said. "I was going to wish for ice cream anyway." Basrar teared up and sniffled.

"That's very nice. I hope that's true." He almost sobbed.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Machaira asked gently. "Your ice cream is phenomenal." Basrar whirled behind the bar and into the kitchen, but they could still hear him crying. The others all began to head home. Riz headed over to a nearby bus station. Fabian called a rental car to pick him up. Kristen, Gorgug, and Adaine were all calling Lyft's to pick them up. Machaira hung around with them as they waited just as she did yesterday, for the dual purpose of making sure they got home safely and disguising that she had no one to go home to. Adaine's Lyft was a few minutes later than the others'. When Machaira told her that she lived nearby and intended to walk home, Adaine pursed her lips.

"Are you sure you don't want to call a Lyft?" She asked. "Or you can share with me? We could stop by your place first, I don't mind paying. This is about the only thing my parents let me throw money at."

"No, it's okay. I live really close by." Machaira assured her.

"So do I," Adaine protested. "But we've just seen that it's not safe out here."

"You're a tough cookie." Machaira made a fist and gently pushed Adaine's arm with it. She was a little worried about actually punching her with all the road rash. "I feel sorry for the poor bastard that tries to mug you."

"I'm the one taking a car," Adaine pointed out. "I don't want to get to school tomorrow and find out that something bad happened to you." Machaira opened her mouth to protest, a little insulted Adaine thought her so soft, when she noticed how worried Adaine looked. It occurred to her that Adaine wanted Machaira in her life, and today she had almost lost her.

"I'll be okay," Machaira promised more gently. Adaine looked ready to argue some more. "I can't take a car home. I live a little way outside of the city. There are no roads to my home." Not exactly a lie. There were game trails in the woods but certainly nothing a standard suburban car could navigate.

"Oh, how far away do you live?" Adaine asked.

"It takes me about twenty minutes to get to school," Machaira said carefully. She did not mention that was only if she climbed up and down a bluff. While Machaira was a great climber and the bluff wasn't steep, she would have to take a longer route to get to school if it ever rained.

"Oh, okay." Adaine shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Just… call me when you get home, please? I, I think I'd sleep better if I knew you were alright." Adaine bit her lip, eyes full of worry. "I know you can take care of yourself. You're, like, the strongest person I know. Seriously, you almost died, and you don't even seem fazed. But still, I, I just – "

"I'll text you," Machaira promised, gently plugging the tide of worry. She hesitantly reached out and touched her arm, rubbing the wizard's bicep gently. "I know you're worried about me, and I appreciate it, really. It's been a long time since anyone tried to look out for me. But I can take care of myself. And I have a lot more combat experience than you do. Tonight wasn't the first time I almost died."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Adaine said.

"You can tell me 'I told you so' if I die before school tomorrow?" Machaira suggested. Adaine snorted.

"You have the worst sense of humor," she told Machaira.

"You can school me in the ways of funny tomorrow," Machaira promised.

"Are you going to teach me anything in return?" Adaine asked playfully. Machaira chuckled.

"Trust me, there's nothing I could teach you that you want to know," Machaira assured her.

"See, I know you mean that, but you keep dropping these bombshells, and I'm starting to get the idea that you've lived some kind of crazy life." Adaine mused.

"Crazy isn't always good," Machaira cautioned. "Just sometimes."

"Fig would disagree."

"I'm going to have to talk to Fig at some point if she keeps going like this," Machaira admitted. "But, my point is, I'll be okay. I'll text you first thing when I get home, promise."

"Okay, you'd better," Adaine relented. "I'd hate for part of my 'ice cream later' wish to go to waste."

"That would be a tragedy," Machaira agreed, schooling her face into a perfectly serious expression. Adaine laughed. The two shared a moment of comfortable silence before Adaine's Lyft showed up. Adaine waved goodbye and left. Machaira waited until her car was out of sight to start walking home. Basrar's was maybe two blocks from Aguefort, so it wasn't far. All the same, Machaira walked at a calm pace and kept her senses alert. There was power in stillness. Walking quickly attracted unwanted attention. And wild animals or small monsters others found threatening meant future dinners for the tabaxi.

It took her almost forty minutes to get to camp. A blink dog sat near the edge of the clearing by her fire pit, gnawing on a squirrel. The dog glanced up at Machaira and vanished only to reappear on the far edge of the clearing from her tent. The dog came here because everything else in the woods had either learned to respect the tabaxi or been eaten. Machaira let the dog eat at her campsite as proof of her civility. She would not let her past experiences with blink dogs control her, nor would she kill the canine when it showed at least this thin meter of trust. But both parties understood that the truce would be broken as soon as one side went a few days without food, so neither was particularly friendly to the other.

The dog gulped down its squirrel and ran off. Machaira, happy to be alone, unbuttoned her jacket and flung it over a tent pole. She stretched luxuriously, ruffling her fur. She always felt her coat needed a good scratch when she kept it covered for too long. Suddenly she remembered her promise to Adaine. Machaira quickly sent her a text saying 'at home' and pulled off her grey vest, noting that it needed to be sewed in a few places. To be honest, she'd need real shirts at some point. Deciding that she could put that off indefinitely, Machaira unclasped her saber and slotted it along the wall of the tent. As she stood up to take stock of her crossbow bolts, she saw Adaine had texted her back.

10:37 p.m. Adaine Abernant: You okay?

10:38 p.m. Adaine Abernant: Can't believe it, but I already miss the party. I came home, and my parents just scolded me for coming home dirty. Said I was on a quest and they made it sound like that was even worse.

Machaira was torn between sympathy and trepidation. Her own parents had taken one look at her, decided raising her was a fool's errand, and given her a slur for a name. Adaine's cold, image-driven parents struck a deep, hateful chord in her soul. On the other hand, Machaira had never actually had a texting conversation before. Wandering from town to town, hunting the wild lands between, there hadn't been much cause to. Machaira's tail flicked uneasily as she tapped out a response, hoping she didn't break some texting custom that would oust her.

10:41 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: I'm sorry. If their priorities aren't straight, maybe they shouldn't be a priority for you.

10:41 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: Wait.

10:41 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: No.

10:41 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: Shit, that sounds so bad.

10:42 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: I should not have said that, this is not my place, never mind.

10:43 p.m. Adaine Abernant: LOL, it's okay. I get it. No, I think you're right, to an extent. It's just hard to come home to. Kinda hoping we're out later tomorrow following the next clue, so I don't have to go home when anyone is awake.

Machaira hissed. She had spent plenty of time wandering the streets to avoid going home as a cub. Adaine clearly hadn't done that as a child, but that she wanted to hide from her home now… Machaira shivered in the night air, tail lashing angrily. She wanted to comfort her friend, but she'd yet to grow her winter coat yet. Plus, her back was so badly burned she didn't have a lot of fur there. Her nipples were hard, her ears stung from the cold, and her mane was still covered in blood.

10: 44 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: If we finish early, I'll hang out with you after. I have to shower for the night. If you want to keep talking later, I'll be up.

The tabaxi finished undressing and headed off to the stream. The water was so cold it sent her teeth chattering, but it was worth it to feel the gore and grit washing out of her fur. As she bathed, memories flickered through her mind like mosquitoes, of drinking from dirty puddles and running away from other tabaxi children. Her snarl drove the few nocturnal creatures to their burrows. Machaira stayed in the water just long enough to get herself properly clean before leaping out, forcing her fur to fluff against the chill. One of the few items she invested in were quality towels because wet fur in Elmville's temperate climate could be a death sentence. Come winter she would be in big trouble, but for now she was merely uncomfortable.

Machaira vigorously brushed her teeth and decided that if this was to be her daily pattern she would be needing a lot of rest. She had just finished curling into a warm ball somewhere in the center of the blanket mound when she remembered to text Adaine. She tapped a quick 'out' text and, expecting her friend to be asleep, wrapped her tail over her nose and closed her eyes. _Bzzt_. Machaira opened one eye.

11:15 p.m. Adaine Abernant: Have a good shower?

Machaira snorted, hit the call button, put her crystal on speaker, and snuggled deeper into the blankets. She flexed her claws in the pelts at the bottom.

"Hello?" Adaine spoke softly, probably trying to keep her family uninvolved.

"Tell me, how do you define a 'good shower'?" Machaira asked suggestively. She could feel an uneven edge on a few claws. "Besides a shower you take with someone else?" Adaine's muffled giggles echoed back. Machaira gnawed at her claw, trying to remove the outer sheath and smooth it out.

"Good to hear that you're okay," Adaine murmured sleepily. "Came way too close to losing you today." Machaira growled to herself as she pulled the slip of keratin away. "Everything ok over there?"

"Fine, personal grooming," Machaira answered. She started working on another claw, hoping she didn't need to properly sharpen them. Machaira despised getting out of bed once she settled in. "Just not a big texter. Wanted to make sure you were alright before I turned in."

"You're the one that almost died," Adaine said.

"We both almost died," Machaira corrected, voice deepening to a growl as she wrestled with the claw. "Sorry, not mad, just working on something here. But, yeah, we both almost died. And I didn't go back to a family that scolded me for being dirty after a car crash."

"Must be nice having a real family," she muttered sullenly.

"I wouldn't know," Machaira said without thinking. She immediately winced. "Was today your first ice cream?" She asked quickly.

"Um, yes?" Came the shy reply. Sleepy Adaine was not nearly as sharp as regular Adaine.

"Good. First of many." Machaira replied, stretching out on the sabertooth pelt. She grabbed her comb and pulled at a knot in her mane.

"Technically I've had three," Adaine murmured happily.

"Then we'll just have to keep raising that number until you can't remember it." Adaine chuckled sleepily.

"We have a random one coming now," she pointed out.

"Ice cream lottery," Machaira surmised. "Best wish ever." She tugged at her mane until the fur was smooth. She felt a pang of sadness that this conversation could only occur over crystal. Long experience told her that Adaine would be just as disturbed by her grooming habits as Riz had been by her fangs. She shook her head. Following that line of thought wouldn't do her any good. Machaira stretched until her whole body trembled, claws sinking into the head of the owlbear pelt that formed the bottom layer of her 'bed'.

"Hey, it's getting late." She told her new friend. "I'll stay on if you want, but you should get some sleep. If tomorrow is anything like today or yesterday, we're going to need it." There was a long pause from the other end as Adaine considered. Machaira slithered on top of the lowest blanket in the stack, worming about to get comfortable.

"Okay," the slurred reply came eventually. "Goodnight, Machaira."

"Goodnight, Adaine." Machaira turned off the crystal. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom in seconds, but for once she felt no compulsion to go on a midnight hunt. Machaira made sure she could see out the slit in the tent flaps before settling down, dreaming of emerging from infernal darkness into the light of two blue eyes, like joyful stars that shone just for her.

"**And you are, what? Cool?" – Fabian's first words to Shellford the turtle person**

Machaira decided to time her walk to campus so that she would happen to arrive at the same point the bus normally did. Adaine greeted her happily, and Machaira asked her if she'd had a good shower with an exaggerated wink. She took the reprimanding punch and Adaine's orb with good humor, and they strolled over to meet the other in the parking lot. After meeting up with the others and having a good laugh about Gorgug and his new drumsticks, Goldenhoard's voice came over the P.A. system.

"Welcome, welcome back to day three here at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Nobody died yesterday, so big plus as far as we're concerned. Let's keep it going, gang. And everyone enjoy your classes."

"We did murder someone though," Riz said in a stage whisper.

"And a bunch of his friends," Fabian snickered.

"I can't believe that nobody noticed," Adaine admitted. "We didn't get in trouble for that."

"Oh yeah," Fig whispered, contemplating.

"We just crashed a car," Adaine said it like she still couldn't believe it. The others shrugged and separated. On their way to first period, they passed by the fighter from yesterday who tried to hook Machaira up with his cat.

"Hey, pussy! Pets aren't allowed in school." He hollered. Machaira resisted the urge to confront him. She had enough blood on her hands as it was. Pride wasn't worth fighting over. If she wanted respect at school, she needed restraint. He wasn't worth her time. "You don't belong here." Machaira forced herself to keep walking, away from the memories of her own kind telling her that everywhere she went.

"Fuck off." A voice, hard as steel, spoke up from just behind Machaira. Adaine had stopped walking and turned to face the fighter, fists at her side, back straight. Machaira stepped back to her.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" The boy laughed, looking Adaine up and down.

"None of your damn business." Adaine's voice was smooth and dangerous as a knife blade, much steadier than the nervous stammering Machaira had become accustomed to. "Don't talk to my friend like that."

"Your friend the cat?" The fighter asked. "What, you gonna call PETA on me?" Other students behind him, presumably his party, began to laugh. "Did they not teach you the difference between an animal and a person in prep school? Or are you just a furry?" Machaira flattened her ears as the whole hallway joined in the laughing. God, that stupid furry shit had made her life so needlessly difficult. She'd been hoping to avoid it for a little longer than two days.

"Come on," Machaira muttered to Adaine, tail on the floor between her legs. "Let's get to class." Machaira's scarred ears felt hot. She was painfully aware of how visible her fangs were.

"Maybe you didn't understand me," Adaine said again to the bully, deathly calm. "You won't talk to my friend like that."

"Oh, are you going to stop me, Mumple Girl?" The fighter asked. Great. Apparently Lindsey had gotten around to some of the other students before Adaine nailed her.

"Adaine, come on," Machaira pleaded. "You don't need any more trouble in your life. I'm not worth it." Adaine turned to look at her. The wizard's eyes were like those of a white dragon: blue, hard, and merciless.

"Yes, you are." Adaine told her firmly. She turned on the fighter and cast vicious mockery. "You're a racist sack of shit, and you're never getting laid." The fighter's eyes widened. His hands briefly trembled. Then he drew his longsword and rushed Adaine. Adaine stood her ground, fully prepared to take him on, but Machaira saw red.

Her shame dissipated, every instinct coming alive. She shoved the orb at Adaine and leapt to meet the fighter halfway. Before he could attack her claws flashed across his hand, forcing him to drop the sword. Her fist slammed into his stomach and her boot into his balls. The boy doubled over, bringing his head to a more comfortable punching height. Her fist crunched into his mouth. She'd struck twice more before his teeth hit the ground, breaking his jaw and nose. Machaira stepped to the right and slammed a foot into the side of his knee. The fighter screamed and started to drop. Machaira used the motion of his fall to scoop him up, holding him over her head. Machaira bared her teeth at the boy above her before smashing him down on her raised knee, right at the juncture of his ribs. Machaira could hear bone breaking over his cries. He rolled to the ground, and Machaira placed her foot on his neck and her saber point at his eye. She stared at the other members of his party, who looked back at her with owlish eyes.

"You want to try and save him?" She growled, mane bristling like the dorsal fin of a shark. She displayed the bloody claws on her left hand. "Be my guest." The rest of his party dithered, daunted by the savagery of her attacks. Machaira stared down at the boy below her.

"If they won't stand up for you now, how fast will they leave you when you really need them?" She didn't wait for a response, slamming her foot into his gut and kicking him away. The fighter barfed up blood and waffles. "Don't even think about touching my friend, rat. Ever." Machaira turned back to Adaine, who was frozen bent over her crystal ball from where Machaira had shoved it into her arms. Adaine was staring at her with wide, stupefied eyes. Machaira felt her uncertainty return. Was Adaine second guessing her choice to stand up for Machaira now that she had seen her vicious side?

Slowly, Adaine grinned, giving Machair a small, neat smile.

"That was awesome," she said, laughter bubbling under her voice. Machaira relaxed and smiled back, walking over and taking the orb from her.

"Sorry about punching you with your big ball," Machaira apologized, half genuine and half teasing. Adaine snickered as they kept walking to class, ignoring the silent students who'd been jeering at them less than a minute ago.

"It's alright," she forgave, nudging Machaira with her shoulder. "What was all that about not fighting every jerk who calls you names, hmm?"

"I believe that falls under fighting your battles," Machaira corrected.

"Do I ever get to fight my own battles?" She asked.

"Nope, not unless I hold them down for you. That's why you fight my battles. It all evens out." Adaine and Machaira laughed at their violence even as they sat down for insight class amid the whispers and glares of the other students. Machaira liked the normal, nervous Adaine, but this Adaine – the Adaine that cared enough to push aside her nerves and stand up for her – she was the best thing to walk into Machaira's life in a long time.

"**Oh, rad. I play with a lot of locks too." – Zelda going along with Gorgug's terrible lie**

Second period the party gathered to go to the A.V. club. They agreed that it might be valuable to have some of them in the popular crowd later on, not that anyone really wanted to be a social pariah in the first place, so Fabian and Fig shamed and humiliated Riz up and down the hall on their way to the A.V. club. Fabian tried to spin The Ball on his finger but instead dropped him flat on his face. Machaira thought it cruel and unusual punishment, but Riz had invited them to embarrass him. Fig yanked on every lock they passed to try and find one she could open. To Machaira's surprise, Fig found one.

"It's Penelope Everpetal's locker," Fig whispered.

"Oh shit," Kristen exclaimed.

"Yup, we're gonna look in there," Riz declared, rising from his latest face plant.

"Will you guys cover me because if she comes, I can't get into shit with her." Fig stated.

"Do you wanna just throw me in her locker?" Riz asked. Fig stared at Riz for a moment, clearly taking some time to savor the moment.

"Yes, I will pretend to be doing that," Fig fully shoved Riz into the locker and shut the door.

"How are we pretending at this point?" Machaira asked.

"Shut up and stand guard," Fig commanded. The other six party members stood around the locker, making forced conversation about their classes while Riz snooped. After about fifteen seconds of this Kristen gasped. Machaira turned to see Penelope walking over. Crap.

"Shit, did you really see Johnny Spells outside earlier?" Fig asked Fabian loudly, moving to stand in front of the rest of the party.

"I did see Johnny Spells outside," Fabian confirmed before turning to Penelope. "Penelope, Johnny Spells is outside right now." Machaira grabbed her tail to stop it from lashing in every direction. Fabian was talking way too loudly and theatrically for anyone to believe him.

"Oh my god, Johnny Spells is outside right now?" Ok, maybe theatrical was normal for Fabian, or maybe Penelope was even stupider than she had thought.

"Yeah," Fig said. "Or, like, some guy, like – we don't really know him. We saw some guy on a motorcycle."

"Yeah," Fabian nodded with too wide eyes.

"Um, oh my god, thank you guys so much for telling me. I super appreciate it." Penelope sprinted away. Fig knocked on the door.

"Get out, get out, Riz." Fig urged.

"The Ball," Fabian corrected.

"The Ball." Fig agreed. Riz continued to slap around the walls for a few seconds before Machaira opened the door and picked Riz up. Fig closed the door, and Fabian went to take him from Machaira to continue shaming him.

"Nope." Machaira told Fabian, tucking The Ball under her arm and walking off. "We will treat The Ball with respect."

"Then can I walk by myself," Riz asked. Machaira flipped him around so that his head was facing behind her.

"I mean, you're joining the A.V. club. I gotta make this at least a little undignified." Machaira amended. Fig chortled. She felt Riz take a swipe for her tail. "Oh, and you pull my tail, you'll be The Ball without balls." Riz stopped struggling and accepted his fate as they made their way to the A.V. club amid Fig and Adaine's giggles. The A.V. club looked cooler than it was, covered in wires, arcano-tech, and brass holding structures. Machaira set The Ball down.

"What's up boys," Riz said to the three nerds, who he had described on their way over as Biz, Skrank, and Shellford. Shellford slowly turned to regard the group of newcomers in silence for a few seconds.

"… Pfft… whateverrrrr…" he drawled, turning back to his work.

"Guys, what's up?" Biz shouted excitedly, flying over to Riz. "Welcome back. It's packed in here. That's nuts dude." Biz looked at Gorgug and the smile slipped off his face. "Oh, uh, Gorgug."

"Yeah, hi," Gorgug said, smiling at Biz. The pixie looked at Riz.

"Uh, Riz, can I just, like, level with you super quick."

"Yeah, sure, what's up man," Riz said.

"We kinda have like a rep here at the school, and if Gorgug's kinda hanging around…" Fig and Kristen stayed outside by the door, but Machaira could hear Fig groan in distress.

"What did we do?" Fabian whispered from the far side of the room, horrified that he had dragged Gorgug down to some unknown social hell below A.V. club.

"I'm excited to be here. This is exactly what I wanted to do, I think." Gorgug called over to Biz, wandering from one piece of tech to another, fingers hovering over them without touching.

"It's just kinda, like, maybe don't super bring him around all the time." Biz asked.

"All this stuff is so cool," Gorgug said. Machaira's tail kinked up and down. This was a new level of insult levied at their wonderful, sweet berserker.

"I feel like he's kinda…" Riz started. "I feel like, if anything, he actually might fit in real well with, like, us. Do you know what I mean?" Biz bared his teeth in a pained grimace.

"Uggghhhh, yeah, maybe, maybe he would," Biz said in a voice that strongly suggested he wouldn't. "But also, like, one if the things is that A.V., we kinda, like, have a, of the clubs at school, we kinda have like a bad boy mystique that kinda feeds into us. 'Cause, like, it takes a lot of fucking skill to, like, work these machines, and people kinda look at that, and they're like that's dope." Riz quickly agreed and tried to offer a rebuttal, but Biz swept on. "And if Gorgug is here, he's kinda like a freaky weirdo who creeps on people and steals their stuff." Adaine looked at Machaira with such dismay and anger that Machaira didn't know if she should comfort the elf or get out of her way.

"Oh my god," Fig moaned from the hall.

"Here's the thing about Gorgug, though," Riz spoke slowly, holding Biz's gaze. "He's got something really fucking cool that only me, you, and Gorgug can look at." Biz looked between Riz and Gorgug.

"Oh, okay, yeah, if he's got dope stuff, yeah, we'll take a look." Biz acquiesced. Somehow, this felt even worse to Machaira. "Can I show Shellford or Skrank or – "

"What is this?" Gorgug asked about a piece of glowing equipment bolted to the wall.

"I think it should probably just be us," Riz cautioned. Riz, Biz, and Gorgug went into a corner of the room.

"Hey dude," Biz greeted Gorgug with false cheer.

"Hey," Gorgug greeted Riz with the same shy kindness he treated everyone with.

"Cool, so, my man, Riz, here, tells me that you go some cool stuff to look at."

"Aw, yeah, totally, hold on," Gorgug smiled as he took out the palimpsest. "I got a puh-lip-sees."

"It's a palimpsest," Adaine hissed under her breath. As much sympathy as the young wizard had for Gorgug, she seemed equally outraged that he was getting the credit for her work.

"Holy moly, that thing's been beat to hell. What happened. What'd you guys do?" The pixie asked.

"I think there's something inside of it," Riz admitted. "And somebody' trying to make it more difficult for it to get out. Can you look at it and tell us what it is?"

"Is it what, like, data or something?" Biz asked. "There's some, like, information or memories or dreams or something put in there?"

"Gorgug thinks there's like a person in there," Riz clarified.

"What, What, what wha- what do you mean?" Biz kinda chuckled nervously. "Like a, like… like a prank? Like, you guys pranked on somebody?"

"Maybe it's like a prank?" Gorgug said hesitantly.

"Okay, hey, why don't we go over to the dark room, and we'll just take a look." Biz suggested.

"Let's look at it," Riz agreed. As they headed toward the dark room, Adaine clenched her jaw and marched over as well. After a split-second delay, Machaira followed her. Adaine tried to squeeze in through the closing dark room door after the boys, but Machaira grabbed the edge of the door with her fingers and flung it back open. Biz turned and looked straight up at Adaine, apparently noticing her for the first time. Biz gaped, eyes comically wide, and froze.

"Oh, uh," Biz turned, flew back into the main room, donned a trilby hat, and flew back to hover in front of Adaine. "M'lday." He greeted Adaine in a different, faux cultured tone, tipping his hat to her. "I couldn't help but notice from your accoutrement, but you bear the visage and resemblance of a spell caster. Our birthright, you as a high elf and myself as a pixie, would see us – "

"No." Machaira could smell Adaine's disgust and see it in her body language long before she responded.

"What?" Biz asked.

"No." Adaine repeatedly flatly.

"Oh, no, no to…?" Biz seemed confused.

"No."

"No to what?" Gorgug asked.

"Just no." Adaine repeated to Biz. Machaira smiled and stifled a laugh. Gods, when Adaine was confident in herself she became so authoritative, and the tabaxi loved it. Machaira silently vowed that one day confident Adaine would just be normal Adaine, so that her friend would always command the respect she deserved, with or without anyone's help.

"It would really impress her if you figured out what was up with this crystal," Riz whispered to Biz.

"Dude, you are the number one wingman," Biz whispered back fervently. "You get it!" Adaine and Machaira exchanged deadpans. She knew what Riz was trying to do, but Biz had to know Adaine could hear him, right?

"Forgive me for being overly forward." Biz entreated Adaine. "As the poets say, the heart wants what looks good." He waggled his eyebrows. Adaine's jaw was clenched, and her hands twitched as if she already had a spell at her fingertips, but she managed to control herself. Machaira growled, rattling the crystals on the wall. Her mane fluffed. She instinctively wrapped her tail around Adaine's waist in support.

The four of them followed Biz into the darkroom. Adaine said nothing about Machaira's tail around her waist. If anything, she scooted closer to the rogue. This broke basically every tabaxi tradition, but Machaira wasn't a traditional tabaxi. As Biz secured the crystal in a four-pronged brass stand, Adaine put a hand on Machaira's tail and tugged it tighter around her waist, absently scratching the fluffy appendage. Machaira carefully avoided looking at her. She didn't want to admit just how nice it felt to get a little physical affection. Biz turned on a centrifuge engine.

A crystalline blue energy filled the palimpsest. A spectral form of Sam Nightingale formed deep within the crystal, reflected hundreds of times over. Biz stared, horrified.

"Oh my god. How did you guys get this? What did you guys do?" He began to ramble, looking from one person to another and putting his hands up in surrender. "I don't, I don't, I don't want any – "

"What is it?" Gorgug asked. Gorgug's obliviousness probably saved their chance at recruiting Biz, as even the panicking pixie could see that if Gorgug didn't know what was in there, they couldn't have been responsible. Biz calmed down a notch, put a hand to his eyebrow, and took a deep breath.

"Okay, look, there's…" Biz took another breath and started again. "So, okay, every crystal, right, is logged with the council of chosen. There's a special bureau that's dedicated to arcano-tech safety, right? So, every crystal is unique, right? There's a way to kinda scry on it or find it, if people do stuff right. So, this has been turned into a palimpsest. All that stuff's been scrubbed out. So, a normal dream crystal's only capable of holding, like, certain amounts of data or information, like textual information or to run certain cantrips or to run certain spells that have certain applications, right. So that most of the companies that buy and sell crystals, they have very limited use, right, but the dream crystal in its natural state is capable of holding vastly more information than just sensory data, uh, light, sound, things like that. A crystal can hold… kind of anything. And I've sort of never seen it fully developed or tested, but it appears that this crystal is holding a, um… a soul."

"Well, so how do we get her out?" Adaine asked.

"Uh, well…" Biz faltered. "Well, I know how to, like, get music off your mobile crystal onto your, like, home crystal."

"So you're useless," Adaine surmised in her best matter-of-fact tone. "Is that what you're telling us? You're useless?" Machaira's hackles dropped, positive now that her friend would not have a panic attack from being creeped on by this little pixie. Biz looked back, horror fading to offense.

"Uh, sorry, uh, far from useless, m'lady. I uh, I could get her out. I could definitely get her out, if you could, um…"

"Definitely," Riz preemptively promised. "Just don't kill her, but yeah, if you could get her out.

"Well that's the thing, there is no, uh…" Biz trailed off again, staring into the middle distance.

"What do you think you could do to get her out?" Riz asked. Biz moistened his lips.

"I would need, like, more… I would need, like, better equipment than what the school has." Biz finally vocalized.

"What place has better equipment?" Gorgug asked.

"Than a high school A.V. club," Riz added, keeping his expression carefully blank. Machaira managed to pass her laughter off as a coughing fit. Adaine eyed her, mouth quivering as she suppressed her own giggles.

"I mean, my parents might have something," Gorgug theorized.

"If you…" Biz paused. "Look, I won't lie to you. I… think I can figure out how to do this, but doing it here feels really dangerous. Also, whoever did this is extremely dangerous. You guys – you're not the ones who did this, right?"

"No, no, no, no," Adaine whispered, frowning uncomfortably at the thought.

"We might have already killed the person who did this," Machaira told him. "But we're not totally sure." Biz blinked at her.

"Okay, do you mind telling me if you're trying to enlist me in a covert operation?"

"Yes, you're our hacker," Riz informed him. Biz swelled and fist pumped.

"Yes, dude!" He cheered. "Fuckin' did it dude, yes!"

"Yeah!" Gorgug cheered for him.

"Just to be clear, you're not in our adventuring party," Adaine said, maintaining her track record of reminding very small boys how small they were.

"I'm a part of the team!" Biz ignored her.

"He's a hacker," Riz corrected Adaine with a grin.

"The eight of us versus the world!" Biz hollered. Machaira was glad the dark room was soundproof.

"All of us!" Gorgug celebrated. Adaine sank back into Machaira's side with mental fatigue.

"So, okay, so, I'm like the man in the van, right?" Biz analogued, failing to see how creepy that was. "Like I'm your guy in the sky, kind of? Like I am in over here." He pointed to his head. "We're like pow-pow-pow-pow-pow, yeah." Riz nodded. "Dude, this so friggin' rules. This so friggin' rules, dude!"

"Right, okay." Riz held up a calming hand. "So, hacker, where do you think we can get equipment that would be better?"

"Uh, okay," Biz started to plan. "I could get started with – with what I have. Although, I probably shouldn't do it on school property 'cause weird stuff has been happening at the school, right?"

"Right," Adaine confirmed quietly, disdain heavy in that one syllable.

"So, I can get started with what I have. If you guys could talk to Gorgug's parents or, uh…" He trailed off, apparently unable to think of anyone else who might have a power source. "To see if they have any dream crystal equipment. I'm sure they do. They're tinkers, right?"

"Yeah," Gorgug confirmed. The knowledge that Gorgug was a half-orc raised by gnomes had made a quick circuit of the gossip mills.

"Basically, what I really need is, like, a power source. I need, like, a machine because I can do a lot of the processes, but I don't have enough juice on my crystal at home. So, any kind of power source you can get me is gonna be, like, super helpful."

"What kind of a power source?" Adaine asked.

"I don't know," Biz shrugged. "Any kind of arcane power source that is gonna be strong enough to, like, let me run a lot of very complex operations. I can, like, daisy chain a couple of crystals together, but at a certain point, like, I'm gonna blow the breaker at my parents' house and I'm gonna get in trouble."

"I mean," Adaine began slowly. "This might be too dangerous… but I do have this warlock switch comb." Adaine showed him the comb. Biz clasped his hands together.

"Well, well, well, m'lady." Biz grinned. Machaira's ears went back, teeth flashing just a bit.

"Don't…" Adaine took a second to regain her composure. "If you call me m'lady one more time, I will make you vomit in front of the coolest girl in school." Biz shrugged, smiling a little broader.

"Well, if you want to make me vomit in front of yourself, that's your prerogative." Adaine hung her head, humiliated by the recoil of her threat. Machaira snarled. Biz finally noticed her tail wrapped around the wizard.

"Ah, I see you keep a little muscle with you. Very smart to have a toady or two on hand if I do say so, madam." Machaira's hackles rose again, more outraged that Biz wasn't respecting Adaine's comfort than the (largely true) insult.

"I would say go for it at this point," Riz shrugged at Adaine, clearly expecting another Ray of Sickness. Adaine had better self-control than Machaira realized because she took a deep breath through her nose and stood straight, jaw set with displeasure. Machaira could hear her heart rate rise. Adaine began petting her tail, and while Machaira wanted to get the whole 'person not pet' conversation out of the way, she decided that could wait until Adaine was less stressed. For the moment, she merely enjoyed the attention and glared at Biz.

"Yeah, that should have just enough juice for it that I could at least get started." The pixie said, returning to business. "I don't know if it will mess with it or not. It's possible that – " Biz peered at the comb. "Is that Johnny Spells's switch comb?" Adaine stiffened, grasping her tail. Machaira slowly moved a hand toward her saber. Gorgug frowned.

"How do you know Johnny Spells?" Riz asked carefully.

"Uh, he's been coming to this school and dating people for the whole time I've been here." Biz said.

"That's so creepy." From the way Adaine was glaring she could have meant Biz or Johnny.

"Yeah, he's, like, not great," Biz summarized. "He's, like, a bad guy."

"Yeah." Riz agreed. Machaira moved her hand away from her saber.

"And it's always, like," Biz continued more animatedly. "Like, of course girls are gonna go for Johnny Spells 'cause he has a motorcycle and is, like, super in shape, but, like, there's, like, nice guys who honestly, like, have a lot to offer that they would never – "

"I mean…" Adaine cut him off, paused, and sighed, fingers digging nicely into Machaira's fur for support. "Oh, I hate that I'm even gonna tell you this, but, like… I think that you feel like you have a lot to offer, and please take this the right way." Biz nodded.

"Sure."

"You don't." Machaira's jaw dropped. And the rogue had thought she was savage.

"Hard to see a great way to take that if I'm being super honest," Biz admitted.

"Like, what are you doing to work on yourself to make yourself more interesting and attractive?" Adaine clarified. Riz and Gorgug stared at her in horror.

"Uh…" Biz tried to respond.

"Like, are you just thinking that women should, like, change themselves and lower their standards in order to date you?" Silence. "I'm saying this to you now because, like… like… I really think it will help you, even though it's very hurtful." Machaira very carefully unwound her tail away from Adaine and the lovely scratching. The tabaxi took a slow step back, then another. She realized she still had the orb tucked under one arm. Adaine turned to her. "What are you – " Machaira put her hands up in surrender, ears flat.

"Dear god, you are frightening when you put your mind to it," she whispered. "Like, that was absolutely awesome but also terrifying." Machaira, for the first time, was genuinely afraid of Adaine. If she ever turned that hard truth on Machaira and her mess of emotional issues… the tabaxi's tail swung low on the ground, trembling slightly at the thought. Adaine looked confused and maybe a little hurt, but Biz cleared his throat before she could speak.

"Okay, uh…" Biz put a hand to his face and tried to gasp for breath, clearly still reeling. "Well, I'll get started on doing this really dangerous thing for you guys." He teared up toward the end. Adaine put her hands over her heart. "I guess I'll take the switch comb and the palimpsest and you guys just – I'm sorry." He started wiping tears out of his eyes.

"I don't know if we should just leave these with you," Riz cautioned. "I think there's dangerous people who are maybe after this." Biz nodded blearily at him and took a calming breath.

"Okay, do you guys – "

"So maybe we should meet up with you after school," Riz suggested.

"You guys hold onto it," Biz agreed. "Hand it off to me after school, and I'll get started."

"I'm sorry," Adaine apologized. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I just didn't also want you to kid yourself." Adaine winced this time, perhaps regretting her word choice.

"I think you would actually get along really well with…" Riz turned to Adaine. "You have a sister, right?" They'd all heard Adaine gripe about Aelwyn at least once.

"I do have an older sister," Adaine confirmed. "She's _very_ mean. I'm the nice one. I don't think he would get along with my sister." Adaine started laughing at the end of that, her face a weird mix of serious frown and amused grin.

"You're – you're the nice one?" Biz asked skeptically.

"I'm… the nice one," Adaine confirmed slowly.

"Well, that's the thing," Biz put a hand on his head. "I, uh, I won't lie. I have been cut down a peg or two in this social interlocution, however – "

"See here's the thing," Adaine cut in, holding her hand out in a chopping motion. Riz, Gorgug, and Machaira flinched. "Saying interlocution instead of saying conversation. Like, this is a part of the problem, dude."

"Do you have anything else about me that you'd like to be different than how it is?" Biz asked, throwing up his hands.

"I'm not saying that you need to be different. I'm saying that if this is what you want, a specific thing that…" Adaine trailed off, confidence ebbing into unease. "You know thank you so much for doing this thing for us."

"You're a hacker, man!" Riz exclaimed.

"I'm a hacker dude!" Biz cheered again. "I'm the hacker."

"Never forget that," Riz told him. "At the end of the day, you're a hacker." Gorgug took the palimpsest back, and they left the dark room. Machaira kept a slight distance between herself and Adaine, hopefully not enough to draw suspicion. While she hoped Adaine would not verbally dismantle her the way she had Biz, Machaira offered so much more ammunition for the elf to work with. She hadn't considered that friends would want to learn about her life at some point. Thinking about it, Machaira realized she was terrified about what her friends might say when they found out.

At lunch, they mostly talked about Gorgug's shy new lady friend. Fifth period was largely spent sparring with Fabian. The guy was good, and Machaira only went even because he insisted on adding backflips and spins to every third motion. Machaira texted Adaine that she would be taking a poisoner's workshop for sixth period. The tabaxi did go to the workshop, but she missed her friend's company even if it gave her time to process her new phobia. Machaira knew at some point she'd have to tell them, but it could wait. She didn't have any secret enemies or great deeds to her name. There was nothing in her past that could hurt them, only push them away. The bell rang for the end of school.

"Fuck." She muttered, flicking an arrowhead coated in snake venom into the garbage can. Time to get back to work. The group met on the front steps a few minutes before Biz was supposed to arrive.

"I mean, if we, so, first off," Fig initiated the conversation. "I want to put it out there that that switchblade could be a connection to…" Fig cleared her throat nervously.

"Your dad?" Kristen guessed.

"My dad." Fig confirmed. "So I would prefer to go where the switchblade goes. I also think, in general, the switchblade should be with me. Just putting it out there. I would love that. I'll leave it up to the group because, I don't know if I say this enough, but I really respect you guys."

"Okay, just don't run away," Riz called after a retreating Fig. "We respect you also."

"Just stay, don't run," Fabian asked.

"Cool," Fig said as she stopped running away and walked back to the group amid good-natured laughter. "But, but, I would say that if we're worried about someone coming after Biz, we could leave a couple thugs, myself included, to sort of stand guard."

"I think we should go with Biz, wherever he goes," Riz amended.

"You need to go to your parents, though, to get the stuff," Adaine told Gorgug.

"Or should we just bring Biz to your house?" Riz asked.

"Oh, yeah, maybe," Adaine nodded.

"Is this a power…?" Gorgug asked. "I was confused, is this the power source – "

"The power source situation," Adaine confirmed.

"Is the power source –"

"We can't go to my house," Adaine said with fervor.

"We could sneak around," Riz suggested. "It'd be kinda fun." Machaira was torn between wanting to make the smart decision and wanting to see where Adaine lived (and maybe fuck with her family while she was there).

"I mean… awwww," Adaine smiled at Riz, struggling with the same dilemma.

"Wait, I thought the comb was the power source?" Gorgug asked.

"It might hurt Sam," Machaira reminded him. "So we should probably try something else first."

"Is this the guy you were talking about?" Fig jabbed a thumb toward an approaching Biz. The pixie was wearing a trench coat and a different trilby hat from earlier. How many of those things did he have just at school?

"We brought him into the fold?" Fabian asked skeptically. Riz stared at the approaching nerd with a look of depressed discovery, like he had come to a great and disappointing epiphany.

"I mean, look," Adaine ignored Biz. "We can go to my place, but you guys have to sneak in the back or like up into a window." Adaine gestured moving up a wall.

"That would be cool," Machaira grinned. Both climbing and sneaking were fun.

"Do you have like an extra whole house or something?" Kristen asked. "I feel like – "

"No, no, the house is just really big," Adaine admitted, looking at her feet. "But they would never give me permission – "

"Well, well, well well well," Biz drawled as he floated up. "Looks like our little clandestine meeting has arrived. Enchante, mademoiselle." He said, smirking at Adaine.

"Enchante," Gorgug smiled back. Adaine took a step toward Machaira. The tabaxi tried to give her a supportive look but kept her tail to herself. She was still shaken by her latest self-revelation. Fig and Adaine glanced at each other before turning back to Biz in resignation.

"Do you have 'the parcel'?" Biz asked.

"I think we're all gonna go together," Riz told him. Biz blinked.

"To… to my house?"

"Is that where we're doing it?" Fig asked. "I thought you needed a power source?"

"I do need a power source," Biz admitted. "I hang out – my mom kinda lets me use, like, the whole basement."

"Okay," Fig confirmed.

"Okay, so should we go get a power source and then meet him at his house?" Riz polled the group.

"Yeah, or we have it, we have the switchblade," Kristen said.

"Yeah, but that could hurt Sam," Machaira repeated.

"This might take a couple days, guys," Biz warned them. "Just as, like, a heads up."

"Should we trade out shifts so that someone is always with you?" Kristen asked, circling her hands to describe her point.

"My mom's gone all the time, so I can just sleep at his house," Riz admitted.

"Yeah dude, sleep over, dude!" Biz was way too excited to have a freshman sleep over at his house. "That's awesome, dude, yes!"

"Oh god. Jesus," Riz put his head in his hands.

"Yeah, I don't know man," Fig said to Biz. "You're not my vibe, I'm sure I'm not yours." Fig was already over the switchblade if it meant spending time with Biz.

"I understand." Biz completely misconstrued what the cool girl was saying. "Listen, in this game of shadows that us in the intelligence community play, trust is at a premium. I understand that." He looked about the group, winking at Adaine. Machaira heard a message spell activate in her head, psychically linking her to the other three girls.

_Do not leave me alone with this dude, please_. Adaine thought. Kristen autoreplied with, _Have a blessed day_, followed by a bunch of bible verses. Fig autoreplied a bunch of emo song lyrics Machaira wasn't familiar with. Since Machaira didn't have a Thaumaturgy, she had no autoreply. _I work best with ice cream_, Machaira thought back. Unsure how to use a message spell, she tried to hold the mental image of a semicolon next to a close parenthesis in her head. Based on the other girls' peals of spontaneous laughter, it worked. _Done_, Adaine mentally promised before moving to stand right next to Machaira, shutting off the message spell.

"If I need to earn your trust, I understand that," Biz assured them, unaware of the female conspiracy. "You're more than welcome to come hang at my house. My mom always has snacks, and we're pretty much good to go."

"Cool," Fig said. "Another point of business: we got a crystal number that we can call."

"Why don't we meet Biz later," Riz told her. "Biz, why don't you get ready. We'll be in your basement." Adaine shot Machaira a stressed look. Machaira offered her a reassuring smile.

"I'll get ready," Biz promised. "Um, do you guys wanna hold onto the stuff, or do you want me to get started?"

"You know what, we'll hold onto the stuff until we get to yours," Adaine said, face screwing up a little as she anticipated a bad flirting response.

"Okay, cool, dope, awesome." Biz assured them. The pixie tipped his hat and flew off.

"We could just go to my house and try to find a power source?" Gorgug suggested quietly.

"Which of your houses would have it better, gnomes or elves?" Riz mimed a scale with his hands as he asked.

"I mean, I don't know of any specific power source," Adaine admitted. "I'm sure there's something cool we could use?"

"What about your orb?" Machaira asked.

"It doesn't store power, it just helps you mentally focus energy already inside you," Adaine groaned, swiveling the truly useless rock into her other arm. Machaira took pity on the high elf and scooped up the ball, not The Ball, and Adaine smiled at her gratefully, shaking out her sore arms.

"Do you guys just wanna stop by both houses?" Riz suggested.

"I'll go to my house," Gorgug volunteered. "I know it'll be easy, at least, to go to my house."

"Yeah, your house," Adaine began. "At least your parents will probably help you. My house, we'll have to sneak around."

"Do we wanna go by Gorgug's, see what we can get, and then go from there?" Riz asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Fig agreed. "En route, we should call this mysterious number from this burner crystal."

"Can you pretend to be Johnny Spells?" Riz asked.

"Yeah," Fig said, opening and activating the crystal. Immediately a text from an unknown number pinged on the screen.

\+ 1 (069) 666 – 0666: Page didn't work. We need another one. Can we organize a meetup?

"Page didn't work," Fig murmured.

"Do we know a…" Riz trailed off.

"Well there was a page in the corn monster," Kristen reminded them.

"There was a page in the corn monster," Fig repeated. "We need another one. Okay, I'm gonna say yes because I also stole a bunch of his clothing. I could straight up disguise myself as Johnny Spells, be shrouded in shadow, and meet up with this person."

"Yes, and when you're texting back make sure to use the word daddio a lot," Adaine told her.

"Yeah, I'm definitely going to," Fig confirmed. "I'm gonna say things like jive."

"Emojis that are um, like, saxophones and stuff," Gorgug requested.

"No," Kristen shot down.

"The dancing man?" Adaine suggested, dancing a little for clarity. Machaira laughed.

"Do we know the name of his motorcycle?" Fig asked. " 'Cause you have his motorcycle."

"I don't think it has, it didn't have a name," Fabian asserted.

"Okay, I'm just gonna say…" Fig trailed off, unlocking the crystal. "Um, I think that we should text back, like, 'sure thing daddio! What time jives for you!'"

"Great," Kristen grinned.

"You sound just like him," Adaine assured her.

"Just don't do a double text. That's too thirsty." Kristen reminded her.

"Seems needy," Fabian agreed. Machaira took mental notes from the conversation. The burner buzzed.

\+ 1 (069) 666 – 0666: … Aren't you dead?

"Fuck," Kristen groaned. Fig's hands flew away from the keypad. "Let's make you look like Johnny Spells."

"I don't think I should disguise myself just yet. I should save it for if I meet up with them." Fig disagreed. "Well, do we wanna lie?"

"Can we just say 'laying low for now'?" Riz asked.

"Yeah, 'things went awry, layin' low', something like that," Fabian agreed.

"Yeah, uh, 'things got weird, layin' low for now'." Fig practiced. Kristen covered her hands with her mouth to keep from interrupting.

"What if we take an audio clip of you revving your new bike to show that you're still alive?" The cleric asked.

"That might be more obvious that we stole his bike," Riz countered.

"Oh, really?" Kristen asked. The rest of the party murmured agreements.

"Good try, Kristen," Fabian consoled. Fig typed out the laying low text. Another response from heir mystery contact popped up.

\+ 1 (069) 666 – 0666: …ok, so, the person they buried at Cravencroft, that's not you?

For a moment they all stared at each other.

"Maybe, I'll just say, like…" Fig trailed off. "Fuck, should we say, like… uh… I think we should just say 'I can't go into it now' or something like that."

"Yeah, or like, 'it takes more than a few high schoolers to defeat me' or something?" Adaine suggested. Fabian and Fig started to agree, but Kristen shot them down.

"No, wait, wait, wait. They may not know it was high schoolers. That might give 'em a clue."

"OOOkay," Fig nodded.

"But I think you're on the right path," Fabian said to Adaine.

"I've crashed my bike before?" Kristen proposed.

"What if you just said 'tell ya later'?" Gorgug spoke up softly.

"That's probably safest," Machaira agreed.

"More ambiguous, yes," Fabian concurred.

"Daddio this story is wild?" Fig spitballed.

"Too much, we have a problem with Sam?" Riz tried. Everyone murmured appreciatively.

"Daddio, too much for text. We have a problem with Sam." Fig sounded out. The crystal buzzed almost immediately.

\+ 1 (069) 666 – 0666: No shit. Meet at the pit instead of tea time.

"Oh, so we know it'll be a Friday," Kristen surmised.

"At ten," Adaine added.

"At the black pit," Riz finished.

"What's a good jive response?" Fig asked.

"Just a saxophone," Gorgug insisted. Adaine, Machaira, and Kristen muttered agreements. Riz and Fabian looked on in resigned dismay. In the end Fig told him 'sweet' with a saxophone emoji.

"We could go to my house now," Gorgug suggested without enthusiasm.

"Yeah, let's go to your house," Adaine agreed. "Can we all pile on the back of your bike?" Adaine asked Fabian, not quite able to keep the laughter out of her voice.

"I definitely wanna go on the bike," Fig claimed. "Although it's really funny when Riz goes on the bike 'cause the bike hates him."

"Wait, you didn't ride it to school, did you?" Riz asked Fabian.

"Of course I rode it to school."

"What?"

"It's a motorcycle that drives itself," Fabian reminded him.

"Biz knew who Johnny Spells is!" Riz almost screamed. Everyone laughed.

"Okay, but – "

"Biz knows who Johnny Spells is!" Riz repeated. Machaira's body shook as she laughed. Oh god, was that going to become their next running joke after 'daddy' and 'The Ball', 'even Biz knows'?

"I'm going to add a pair of crossbones so it will very much be my own," Fabian promised.

"Cool, why don't you drive that home and then meet us at Gorgug's?" Riz suggested.

"Hide it," Kristen said.

"I don't want to drive it…" He noticed how the others were looking at him and sighed. "Fine." Fabian left to take his bike home while the others left for Gorgug's home. As it turned out, Fabian pulled up in a rental car seconds after the rest of them made it to the front lawn where Gorgug's parents, Digby and Wilma, were tinkering at a workbench. The Thistlespring Tree was surrounded with complex instruments Machaira could not even begin to understand, and more Rube-Goldberg type devices could be seen from the open doorway. As the party gathered on the front lawn, Dibgy and Wilma looked up, faces creasing in concern.

"Well, bud," Digby began. Machaira mentally readied herself to defend Gorgug.

"Hey mom, hey dad," Gorgug greeted shyly.

"Well what's going on, pal?"

"Uh, well, I…" Gorgug shifted from foot to foot.

"Did you get banged up?" His father seemed genuinely concerned for his son. Digby climbed up onto the work bench to touch the lump on Gorgug's head.

"Yeah, I hit my head on a locker 'cause a guy was, well, that guy pushed my head into the locker."

"Aw, bud, are these social workers or are they – "

"These are my friends." Adaine stepped forward before anyone could comment on the social worker thing.

"Uh, hello Mr. Thistlespring, Mrs. Thistlespring, my name is Adaine Abernant." Adaine held out her hand and offered them a smile. The Thistlesprings looked at each other, astounded, and turned to Adaine with the most radiant expressions Machaira had ever seen. Each gnome wrapped both of their hands around Adaine's and shook it furiously.

"Well, golly, we gotta real elf!" Digby exclaimed. Machaira smiled, all fighting instincts slipping away in the face of the gnomes' true joy at meeting Adaine. Wilma Thistlespring noticed Machaira and turned wide, surprised eyes on her. Machaira flattened her ears, tail immediately whipping low.

"Um, hi, Mr. and Mrs. Thistlespring. I'm, uh, Machaira Mekhit," Machaira stammered, trying to copy Adaine and holding out her hand. She knew how to introduce herself, but she also knew she lacked the elf's charm. The two gnomes blinked at Machaira before smiling widely and grabbing her hand as well. "Watch out for the claws!" Machaira yelped as they squeezed her hand. Fortunately, Machaira didn't impale either of the Thistlesprings, both of whom laughed good-naturedly.

"Well, lookit here, a catfolk at our tree, as I live and breathe!" Wilma exclaimed. "And look at that orb! Are you a wizard, young lady?"

"Oh, no, no, this is Adaine's orb," Machaira explained. "She's studying to be a wizard. She's the smart one. I'm just carrying this for her."

"Well that's awfully nice of you," Digby said to Machaira before turning back to Adaine. "So you're the young wizard then?"

"I am." Adaine smiled happily at them.

"Golly, how about it," Wilma beamed. Adaine turned to Gorgug.

"Your parents are so cute," she whispered.

"I know," he whispered, mortified.

"How are we feeling today?" Digby asked. "Let's get some tea. We have lemonade, pink lemonade, we have the regular – "

"Uh, we actually, um, I don't know if we can hang out for super long," Gorgug said. "But, dad, I was gonna ask you, do you, would you – "

"Ants on a log!" Digby declared. Both gnomes ran into the tree.

"Oh shit, I love that shit, yes," Fig raved.

"Ants on a log, do you know what ants on a log is? Okay." Gorgug murmured, clearly out of his depth. Machaira put a hand on his shoulder and leaned into him.

"Your parents are great." She told him. _Leagues better than mine_. Machaira kept the thought to herself. Her parents could burn in hell and that was that.

"I actually brought some cornbread for everybody if you want some," Kristen offered, pulling a tray of cornbread out of her backpack.

"Why?" Machaira did not expect an answer no matter how badly she wanted one.

"You brought cornbread?" Gorgug asked, rightly confused for once. Kristen hummed.

"I don't wanna be near corn," Riz admitted quietly.

"Yeah, we're actually good without corn," Fabian admitted.

"Why do you bake your god?" Fig asked.

"I… it's more just like a form of worship," Kristen admitted. Fig nodded but declined her cornbread in favor of a cigarette. For once Kristen looked put out that no one wanted to partake in her religious exercise, maybe because she had prepared it herself. Machaira wondered how long Kristen had been carrying that tray in her bag, waiting to offer some to her friends. The tabaxi sighed. Gods, this was going to hurt.

"I'll have a little piece, if that's okay, Kristen. Just a little one though." Machaira might as well have not tried because Kristen pushed a brick of cornbread at her with a freckly smile. "Thanks." Machaira said, offering a timid smile as she nibbled the giant chunk of cornbread. "It's good."

"Your welcome," Kristen replied, thrilled at least one of them had tried her cornbread.

"Are you okay?" Adaine whispered. "You look almost scared."

"If I finish this whole thing I will literally bleed from my intestines," Machaira hissed under her breath. She couldn't process grains, much less a large seed like corn. The cube of loaf in her hand was big enough that she was more afraid of it than the corn cuties. Machaira kept nibbling little bits off the cornbread, which was dry but not bad. When Kristen turned toward Digby and Wilma with the drinks, Machaira chucked the slice down the storm drain with a shudder. Adaine snickered at her discomfort.

"Uh, dad?" Gorgug asked.

"Yeah bud?" Digby acknowledged his son as they passed out ants on a log and lemonade. "You guys all take a seat. Sit, sit, sit, sit, sit, sit." They all pulled up seats around a little table in the yard. Machaira looked about the dozens and dozens of contraptions hitched together, stretching all about the outside of the tree and bristling about the inside, wondering why such clever gnomes would want something so complicated for seemingly everything. Unless, maybe that was the point, to see countless little devices work together to form a greater whole and to appreciate the wonder behind something creative over practical? She didn't know, but she hoped she'd get a chance to ask.

"Now this is so exciting," Wilma gushed. "Now you're all Gorgug's friends? Now you all go to Aguefort?" The party nodded affirmations. "Wow!"

"We all met, you know," Gorgug muttered, cheeks a solstice blend of red and green.

"I'm trying to start a band with Gorgug," Fig spoke up, pointing to the half-orc with her cigarette.

"She gave me drumsticks."

"A band?" Digby grinned at his son. "Let me see 'em." Gorgug held up his drumsticks in either hand, tusks bared as he grinned.

"Thought it was super chill that you guys taught him to sing," Fig told them, smiling as she puffed. Neither gnome seemed to care.

"Well, you know what, I play the gnomish horn, and then I also play the ukulele." Digby told her. He and his wife ran inside again, dashing back out seconds later laden with instruments. "We should, I'm gonna say it because I think we're all thinking it, we should jam."

"I whole-heartedly agree," Fig said at once, smiling as wide as the gnomes.

"Hey dad, I gotta, I gotta, unfortunately, we're looking for something that's like a power source. Do you have any kind of power sources?" Gorgug asked, desperate to keep them on track for once.

"I'll tell ya about a power source," Digby chuckled, pointing a thumb at Gorgug. "This little kiddo, when he was growing up, growth spurt after growth spurt. He was popping up all over the place. His limbs going everywhere." Digby gasped. "We. Have. Pictures!" They ran inside again.

"Dad!" Gorgug called.

"So cute," Adaine praised. "I've never met anybody as cute as your parents. I love them."

"Don't call my parents cute," Gorgug begged as the party firmly agreed.

"They're so cute," Adaine reiterated. The Thistlesprings charged out with a binder of gnomish leaves overflowing with pictures of a giant baby Gorgug. Wilma settled on one of the gnomes with their arms around a baby as big as they were.

"This is Gorgug when we first found him, alright," she said. "Now he was, I'll tell ya, he was hungry, he was a hungry guy. I had never seen a baby eat raw meat, and he ate it up by the handful."

"It's good, I still like raw meat," Gorgug defended.

"Fabian Seacaster, Son of Bill Seacaster," Fabian said, since apparently that was his full name.

"Fabian, nice to meet ya!" Wilma smiled.

"We actually have a group project that we need to be working on for school," he told them.

"Ah, look at this one, but we're getting in the way of academics," Digby cried. "Well, you're not gonna fail on our account, I'll tell ya that. What could we do to help?"

"We need a power source," Gorgug reiterated. "Do you have any sort of bigger power, like something that's – "

"Like a magical power source," Adaine clarified. Machaira watched the Thistlesprings morph before her eyes from exuberant parents to project-focused gnomes.

"Okay, power source," Digby nodded. "Talk to me. What are we talking about here? We're talking about some project? What are you trying to run? What kind of power source? For a spell, like a spell engine? You're talking about some kind of helix matrix, what are we talking about?" He and his wife began strapping on curly-pointed-toed work shoes.

"We're all taking a rogue elective class that's about breaking into people's crystals," Fig lied. "So, we just need a power source that can, like, help us break into crystals."

"Yeah," Riz chimed in. "Adaine was gonna put me inside a crystal, and then she had to get me out."

"Break him out, yeah," Adaine confirmed.

"After I was trapped."

"It's sort of a magical rogue situation/defensive magic type situation." Adaine explained.

"Done, done, done, done, done, we got it." They ran back inside.

"Your parents are so nice; I'm so jealous." Adaine told Gorgug.

"I love them," Fig said simply.

"My parents are so mean." Adaine pulled a face.

"It's really hard for me to lie," Kristen said without elaborating.

"I gotta stop by Gilear's," Fig mumbled.

"Then just be quiet," Fabian whispered to Kristen.

"I'm gonna just be praying for their souls, okay?" Kristen began to pray. Ah, Helio, human only religion. Machaira put the pieces together.

"Here, have these ants on a log," Riz offered Kristen and Fabian.

"Just fill your mouth with cornbread," Fig suggested.

"Are those actual insects?" Fabian asked.

"No, it's raisins and peanut butter on celery," Gorgug told him. Machaira helped herself to a scoop of peanut butter and raisins.

"Oh, okay, raisins," Fabian said, clearly still confused. Riz laughed.

"You really don't know what – you're so rich, you don't know what ants on a log are?" Riz demanded.

"Like, this whole time, I was, like, are these people eating insects?" Fabian admitted. "I was like god – "

"No, no, no, it's like an hors d'oeuvres," Adaine corrected him.

"What do you snack on?" Fig asked.

"You're a ridiculous person." Riz declared. "You're a ridiculous person."

"Kippers," Fabian said, ignoring Riz and staring at Fig like it was obvious.

"Kippers?" Gorgug asked.

"Kippers? What are kippers?" Fig repeated.

"It's like a caper?" Riz asked.

"No, no, no, no, kipper, it's like a small fish," Fabian explained.

"It's a smoked fish," Adaine elaborated.

"It's a small fish, small fish, very expensive," Fabian stressed.

"You get home and you have some fish and milk?" Riz asked.

"I thought I was the cat," Machaira muttered absently, still fascinated by the machines around them.

"Peanut butter is way less gross than fish," Fig promised.

"I'm sorry, what's a raisin?" Fabian asked.

"Raisin?" Fig checked. "It's like a grape that got old."

"That got tired," Gorgug offered.

"Why would you eat something like that?" Fabian almost gagged.

"A tired old grape?" Adaine asked.

"Yeah," Fig and Gorgug laughed together.

"That sounds disgusting." Fabian shuddered.

"Like a grandma grape," Fig retried. "It's like a grandma grape."

"Why are you making them sound so disgusting," Adaine asked. "They're good, just taste it." Machaira popped a raisin in her mouth to drive the point home.

"Power source," Riz drummed the table. "Do you have that power source." The gnomes came to relieve them from their snack squabble. Between them they had a bandolier of tiny crystals, a huge crystal in a brass astrolabe, and a screaming fire elemental inside a gilded orb.

"Oh, so you guys – " Fig was cut off by the elemental's horrible screeching as it tried to escape.

"Sorry, you guys did this?" Fig asked in askance.

"So this is like an elemental engine that you have over here," Digby began. "This would be for more like a dream crystal thing."

"Oh, the dream crystal thing," Adaine spoke up.

"Ok, great, dream crystal, we'll put – " Wilma kicked the ball with the elemental, still howling wildly, into the corner,.

"Is that okay?" Adaine asked. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Gorgug promised. "I play with him all the time."

"Oh yeah, he's fine in there," Wilma assured the wizard. Considering that they used elementals to run their cars, Machaira wasn't sure why they were so concerned about keeping one in a ball. Digby clapped.

"Alright, so, now, what we got here is, uh," Digby began, helping his wife stand the brass astrolabe with its huge, spinning center crystal divided into multiple pieces, all hovering in a loosely cylindrical shape and spinning in different directions. The entire thing sat on the middle of a runed silver disc that Wilma balanced on her index finger and lifted over to Adaine. The young elf hesitantly replaced Wilma's finger with her own, staring nervously at the massive contraption.

"There ya go," Digby said. "Now, it doesn't take much to move that thing around. Though I recommend if you attach things to it, try to move that with a mage hand rather than using your finger."

"So, you guys know how to put people in crystals, so you could just help us," Fig began. Riz, Machaira, Adaine, and Gorgug exchanged dismayed looks.

"What?" Wilma asked, expression slipping to alarm.

"They don't –we don't wanna," Gorgug protested meekly.

"I'm gonna, okay," Kristen muttered, beginning to pray.

"It's probably for, because it's for school, I don't think we should." Gorgug stammered out.

"Oh, you're right," Fig admitted, catching on. "Yeah, that would be cheating."

"We're not gonna get you guys in trouble by helping you out with this, are we?" Wilma asked.

"No, no, no," Gorgug assured her. "We gotta take this to our friend's house though. We're doing the project at a friend's house"

"Okay," Digby agreed. "Well, glad to be of help. If you guys want to come back here, we'll get sleeping bags out. We can get some popcorn; we can get some other snacks and stuff."

"Also, rain check on that jam session," Fig promised, playing a quick bass solo. Adaine's face crumpled a little staring at the Thistlesprings, eyes wistful. Sympathy welled in Machaira. She too was jealous of their half-orc friend. No wonder he was such a sweetheart. The berserker in question looked mortified, trying to jump to his feet and bumping his head on an outdoor light fixture. A chain reaction of machines was activated, eventually cracking two eggs into a pan in the kitchen, visible from the window.

"Oh, looks like it's early breakfast," Wilma teased, completely unconcerned that her son had just smashed a light. "But that's okay, you guys want some eggs?"

"I would love to," Adaine said enthusiastically, still holding the astrolabe by her finger.

"We gotta go," Gorgug reminded her.

"Oh, you're right," Adaine blushed, perhaps realizing they came here for an import reason. Machaira steeled herself and leaned forward.

"Um, Mr. and Mrs. Thistlespring?" The gnomes looked over at her. "Would, would it be alright if I came back some time and – I, uh, would really like to learn more about, you know, gnomish culture and stuff." The Thistlesprings stared at her with wide eyes. "It's just, I've never spent a lot of time with gnomes before, and I don't know what half of this stuff does." She rushed out, gesturing to the devices around her. "And I'd like to learn. Gorgug is really sweet, and I kinda want to know more about how he grew up and where – " Her nervous babbling was cut off when the gnomes practically squealed.

"Oh, we would be delighted to have you over, anytime you want," Wilma insisted, her megawatt smile far too big for her tiny face.

"That is so thoughtful of you," Digby said. Both gnomes ran around the table to Machaira to grasp her hand. Machaira smiled, relieved she hadn't said the wrong thing. Digby jumped up to ruffle her ears, and in an instant Machaira was transported away from the Thistlespring Tree.

Suddenly she was a cub, surrounded by other young tabaxi. They hit and scratched at her, hissing: _primitive, ugly, cursed._ Machaira lashed out in all directions, overwhelmed and confused. She couldn't run, couldn't get away. The only thing her frantic mind could think to do was strike back. One male cub dug his claws into her right ear and ripped, spraying blood down the side of her face. Then Machaira was watching her parents turn away, her cheek and chest still covered in blood, staring at the red headscarf in her hands that might as well have been a death sentence. Then she was thirteen, half-drunk in that dirty inn with an ursine more than twice her age. She had asked him to scratch her behind the ears, expecting a gentle caress. Pain exploded across the back of her head, down her neck. Half her ear lay on the floor. She howled; he yelled. She saw the glint of a halberd and leapt. Her mouth filled with blood, spinal fluid, brain matter.

Machaira flung herself backward off her stool with a hiss, panic setting in. She landed butt first on the ground almost six feet away, chest heaving, teeth bared, hands clasped over her ears and head. Blood roared in her ears. Her trembling tail had puffed up, and her claws pricked her scalp. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, nose and tongue ringing with the memory of the kill. She could feel her eyes stretched too wide, absorbing extra light and further disorienting her. After a moment, she realized where she was, who she was with, and how scared they all looked. Machaira's tail whipped around to cover her fangs.

"I am so sorry," she rushed out around her tail. "Oh my god, I am so sorry, I am so so sorry. Oh my god, I, I, I – "

"Are you alright?" Gorgug asked, hands latched onto the table from surprise.

"I didn't mean to scare ya," Digby said, face creased in concern.

"No, no, no, no," Machaira tried to assure him, still covering her fangs. She couldn't seem to sheathe her claws. "No, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it was me, I'm, I'm so sorry."

"Are you okay?" Adaine asked, taking a step toward her. Machaira flinched, and Adaine froze, blue eyes wide and afraid. Machaira's heart dropped into her stomach.

"You look awful," Riz said quietly.

"Oh my god, no, I'm sorry, I just panicked, I'm sorry," she babbled, internally cursing herself. There was no way out of this without at least half-explaining. "No, I," Machaira took a deep breath. Time to choose her words carefully. "I, um, it's a, uh, tabaxi thing. Touching someone on the head is very… intimate, vulnerable for us." She felt her face glow red through her fur. Digby and Wilma covered their mouths with their hands, eyes wide with horror. Machaira could see they had jumped to the wrong conclusion.

"It's not sexual," she assured them, positive she was fully crimson under her fur. "It's not, not anything like that. Just very sensitive and, and intimate." _Oh Bast, have mercy and kill me now_. "I just, I was kinda raised in a traditional tabaxi culture, and I don't follow it anymore, I don't care about it, but I was raised in it, and… I, I had an instinctive, just, panic, like you were about to hurt me. But I know you weren't!" She promised when the gnomes gasped. "I know, I know you weren't, really, it was just instinct, and I just overreacted, and I am so so so sorry, I just, I'm so sorry." Machaira scrambled up, tail flicking about the grass behind her, still quivering.

"Well, gee, I didn't mean to, to make you feel like that," Digby stammered.

"No, no, you couldn't have known," Machaira assured him. "There was no way for you to know, I just, I just don't get touched very much." _Bast, anytime now_. "But, that's why I want to learn more about you and your customs." Machaira hurried on. "I just, I want to be able to be respectful and not make you or Gorgug feel uncomfortable." Kristen tried to take a step toward her, and Machaira stepped back mechanically, every instinct screaming at her to fully run. But that's what she always did, and she needed to see this through.

The Thistlesprings were dismayed that they had scared her so badly and assured her that she could come over anytime and learn from them. They'd make a tinkerer out of her yet, they promised. Her friends could see she was badly shaken, but they didn't try to talk to her about it. Either they sensed that she was too freaked out and embarrassed, or they just didn't want to get close enough that her tail would hit them as it whirled around. Machaira managed to calm herself down on the ride to Biz's house, avoiding the stares of her party. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she predicted this was the beginning of the end. Eventually, they'd find out how messed up she was.

Machaira rested her brow against the car window, letting the cold glass pull the heat from her face. She could feel Adaine's eyes on her but didn't turn to look over. Sooner rather than later, she knew, the elf would read her the riot act.

"**I'm possessed with pride for me son" – Bill Seacaster to his son, Fabian**

The knowledge that Biz would need weeks instead of days to safely extract Sam was a little concerning for the group. It also meant that they couldn't always have someone with him. They quietly decided that someone should be over with him at least most of the time to keep the palimpsest, and maybe Biz, safe. Riz volunteered to sleepover at Biz's house for tonight and work the majority of the shifts, possibly because he needed to stay on good terms with the pixie or maybe because he was the least disturbed by Biz's habits.

The party began to separate, going home for the night. Machaira really wanted to get away from the others, but she had promised Adaine to hang out with her, and Machaira would be damned if she let the high elf go back to her family so early in the evening.

"It looks like we're gonna have some downtime," she said, scuffing her boot on the sidewalk. "Do you still want to hang out?" Adaine pursed her lips. Machaira glumly reflected that just that morning she had been excited to spend quality time with Adaine.

"Do you?" It sounded more like a challenge than a question. Machaira felt about two feet tall.

"I mean, if you'll let me," she murmured. Adaine studied her. The wizard's face was hard. Machaira hated having that expression turned her way, especially since she deserved it.

"What do you want to do?" Adaine finally asked. Again, there was a nearly threatening quality to her voice. Machaira felt her shoulders sag from dread.

"I, um, haven't lived here very long," She told Adaine. "I don't really know what's fun to do around Elmville. Maybe you could, uh, show me?"

"Alright." Adaine turned and started walking down the street. Machaira followed, feeling like she was on death row. They held a painful silence for several minutes. Machaira had no idea where or what to begin explaining.

"What's up with you today?" Adaine finally demanded. "First that thing in the dark room, then your freak-out at Gorgug's." Machaira stared at her boots. She could feel Adaine glaring at her. At least they were getting this out of the way.

"You… legitimately scared me in the dark room," Machaira admitted finally. "Look, Biz was being creepy and assuming and all kinds of unpleasant, but he was basically harmless. You mentally and emotionally eviscerated him." Adaine winced. "I've respected you as a wizard since the corn fight, especially after watching you warp destiny against Johnny Spells. _That_ was astounding." Adaine's lips twitched up. "But with Biz… you had maybe eight minutes of exposure to him. The most powerful weapon isn't a spell or a sword: it's normal speech. The right words can change the course of a person's life, of a nation."

"Yeah, but I didn't say that to you," Adaine argued. "And Biz was really skeeving me out! I just wanted him to stop."

"Not saying he didn't deserve it," Machaira responded. "Or at least some of it. But… remember how you had a panic attack because of what Lindsey said? That was nothing compared to what you dumped on Biz, and I very much didn't want to have it turned on me."

"Why did you think I'd talk to you like that," Adaine asked. She sounded almost hurt.

"Biz was creepy, but that's all he was," Machaira reiterated. "I… I've led a, uh, less than stellar life. I've made a lot of mistakes. You just have so much more you could use against me."

"But I wouldn't do that," Adaine stressed. She stopped walking and faced Machaira, gazing unhappily at the tabaxi. "You're nothing like Biz. You're caring and thoughtful and… I didn't have a lot of friends at Hudol." Adaine admitted. "I was always living in my sister's shadow, always trying to earn something from my parents. You saw me have a panic attack, and you walked right up to talk to me. And I was so rude! But you didn't…" Adaine sighed. "You looked at me for, well, me. And I know you care because you're just so genuine. There's no underhanded subtext bullshit with you. And that's how I know that you're serious right now, that you think I'd actually talk to you like that. You're the bravest person I've met, and I hate that you're afraid of me."

"I'm sorry," Machaira murmured, shoulders rolling inward. Gods, she felt like an ass. "I didn't want to hurt you. You're, like, the best friend I've ever had."

"Then have a little faith in me," Adaine asked. Machaira didn't think she could feel any smaller.

"I'm sorry." She repeated. Adaine stepped forward, and Machaira hugged her. Adaine wrapped her arms around Machaira's back and squeezed tightly. Machaira held her more gently, aware of how much stronger she was than Adaine. The elf felt tiny in her arms even though she was tall enough that her eyes were even with Machaira's ears. She gently rubbed Adaine's back, chin tucked over her friend's shoulder, and the elf eased against her, tension slipping away at the touch.

"You don't have to tell me about what happened at Gorgug's if you don't want to," Adaine mumbled. Machaira knew the other girl had a clear view of her ears and the scratches down her head from that angle. "I'll be here for you when you're ready."

"On the sidewalk?" Machaira cheeked. Adaine slapped her shoulder. "Thank you," Machaira said more seriously. She took a deep breath and tightened the hug. After a few seconds the girls separated. Machaira rubbed the heel of her hand into her face and smiled at Adaine. Adaine returned the gesture, and the two started walking again.

"I wish you'd talk to me more," Adaine admitted. "I get that there's stuff you're not comfortable with, but I feel like I hardly know you. I mean, I know who you are, like, as a person. I know what type of person you are. And, I mean, we met like three days ago, but I at least know a little about the others. You… you never talk about yourself."

"You wish I was more like Fabian?" Machaira teased. "Or Fig's 'locked book'?"

"Gods, no," Adaine snickered. "No, one Fabian and Fig is enough in the world. Just, I don't know, I'd like to know more about my best friend." Machaira smiled even as she internally winced. It was a fair request, but Machaira wasn't sure how much she wanted Adaine to know about her. She had to give the elf something real and personal without revealing anything dangerous. A balancing act, like all things.

"I hate furries." Adaine stumbled, blinking at Machaira. The tabaxi looked back, jaw clenched. "That whole furry thing has so royally fucked with my life. Furries fetishize satyrs, centaurs, tabaxi, all the half-animals. It makes it hard to form relationships with people because they're afraid of being called a furry, even if you just want to be friends. And furries just assume you're on board with what they want, like Biz assumed girls should just go for him. And, yes, I'm part animal. That's an important part of me. But I'm just as much a person. If I like you, I like _you_. I don't want you to dress up in a costume or put on fake ears or a tail because that's not you. I certainly don't want someone to act like I'm, I'm some kind of horny pet. And it's so frustrating because there's a middle ground to all of it. I like being petted. I love getting scratched. It's not sexual, but it just feels really good. And you can't just explain that to people, and there's so much social backlash that I've grown to just hate furries."

Machaira took a deep breath after her rant. It was so much easier to be angry than ashamed. Adaine watched her for a moment, absorbing what Machaira had said.

"Is that why you kind of flinched when that asshole made the furry comment?" Adaine asked.

"Yeah," Machaira admitted. "That's also partially why I was so excited when Gorgug said that satyr girl talked to him first. Satyrs get it even worse. It makes everything so unnecessarily complicated. I really didn't want you to have to do with the backlash of being seen with me."

"People want to make fun of me, fine," Adaine retorted. "You'll probably hunt them down anyway."

"Damn straight," Machaira grinned.

"But no one gets to make fun of you," she asserted fiercely. Gods, confident Adaine ruled. "Those people get Ray of Sickness."

"You love that spell," Machaira accused playfully. Adaine shrugged.

"It's useful." She looked at Machaira out of the corner of her eye. "So, that tail thing in the dark room, did you stop because you were worried someone would say some furry thing?"

"Um, no," Machaira winced. "I, uh, haven't been part of a tabaxi culture for years. I hate it, in fact. So many bullshit rules about being beautiful and presenting a good face and maintaining social graces. But a few bits stuck with me. A lot of the time, tabaxi don't bother speaking to each other. Communication is largely nonverbal. You learn most of what you need to know about someone from their smell. I have no idea how you function without it, if I'm honest." It was true. A person carried days of information on them that you didn't need a single word to understand.

"The rest of it is body language. Putting your tail around someone is like putting your arm around them but more… territorial." Adaine frowned. Machaira bit her lip. "It's like saying, 'You're my friend, I'm happy to be here with you, everyone else back the fuck off'. It's like, a sign of emotional support that leaves my hands free to punch something, if that makes sense?" Adaine didn't respond right away.

"Yeah, okay, I can see that." She said after a while. "I kinda thought it was like holding hands without being obvious, you know? Or like a small hug."

"That's pretty much it," the rogue assured her. "I just wanted my hands free to deal with Biz if I had to." Adaine smiled again.

"I was a little worried I offended you with the petting," she admitted, cheeks reddening. "I just – your tail is so fluffy and soft. It felt… nice. Soothing, I guess." Machaira felt a small twinge of satisfaction that, if nothing else, someone had recognized how healthy she kept her fur. _Take the compliments where you can get them_.

"I did want to have this conversation about the petting," Machaira told her. "It feels really nice, but there's an attitude about it. Again, kinda like you and Biz: it's not that you hated Biz flirting with you, it's the attitude Biz had about it. He could have approached you differently and come off quite charming." Adaine wrinkled her nose.

"I really doubt that," she muttered. "So, you'd prefer if I didn't pet your tail?"

"I'm not a pet," Machaira repeated. "Not that you treated me like one. You haven't, so I'm fine with it. I kinda like the attention, if I'm honest. Just, be respectful about being around other people, okay?" Adaine nodded. Since no one else was on the street that evening, Machaira wrapped her tail around Adaine's waist. The high elf smiled, happily burying her thin fingers in her friend's thick fur. Machaira fought the urge to close her eyes and drift off. Gods, she was positively starved for this kind of intimacy. The tabaxi couldn't remember the last time she'd just been touched without being lusted for.

"Any other tabaxi customs I should know about, besides the tail and ears?" Adaine asked. Machaira winced.

"Nothing I follow," she answered. "Except…" Machaira weighed her options, debating how effectively this parcel of knowledge would distract Adaine from earlier events or screw herself over. Adaine watched her curiously, still petting her tail.

"I purr." Adaine blinked. Slowly, her smile grew into a delighted, pearly band.

"No way," she exclaimed softly. "Why haven't I heard this yet?"

"I never purr in front of other people," Machaira said with feeling.

"Why!"

"It's… really loud," Machaira admitted, ears flat with embarrassment. "As in shaking furniture loud." Adaine giggled. "It also just doesn't come naturally to me the way it does to others." _Yet another sign of poor mental stability and PTSD_, her brain supplied. Machaira told her mind to go fuck itself. She snapped back to the present and looked over at Adaine. Her friend's smile had turned downright evil as she petted Machaira's tail like a cheesy villain.

"I'm going to get you to purr," she vowed. Machaira's stomach dropped. "Maybe not today, but I will hear you purr." Machaira could see the determined spark in her eyes. Adaine didn't have a plan yet, but she would see her goal through._ I am so fucking screwed_.

"Pretty low odds on that," Machaira bluffed. Adaine smirked.

"I've got lots of time to try," she pointed out. Machaira absorbed the implications of that statement and pulled her into a one arm hug, keeping her tail around her waist. Adaine laughed, and the two kept walking, talking about nothing important until Adaine announced that she couldn't walk anymore. As Machaira made her way home, she took a deep breath. An emotionally stressful day, to be sure, but a productive one nonetheless.


	7. Pixie and the Mosh Pit: Part 2 - Downtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Machaira bonds with her new teammates. Lots of fluff in this piece. Note: THE FOURTH SECTION OF THIS CHAPTER REVOLVES HEAVILY AROUND ANCIENT EGYPTIAN AND D&D LORE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy a bit of fluff, but I know not everyone likes 15-20,000 words of it. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. I would love to know what you guys like/dislike thus far about the story. Big shoutout to Rowan12628 for her encouragement! It truly makes my day!

**Chapter 5: Pixie and the Mosh Pit - Part 2: Downtime**

Machaira believed in using time productively, including time spent with friends. It was the Friday of their first week, and Machaira was sparring with Fabian. They usually sparred together, which was why Fabian was on such a losing streak. The half-elf yelled in pure frustration as Machaira leveled her saber point to his Adam's apple.

"This is ridiculous! I swear I'm good. This is just not my day. I'm tired. I might was well go home and train with Herzon – " Fabian started to walk across the green away from the training space. Machaira dashed in front of him, putting out a hand to stop him.

"You're not having a string of bad luck," she told him. "You're just getting cocky." Fabian huffed.

"I've been fencing for my entire life," he snapped imperiously. "I think I know my own skill. And that I've been losing all class to ah, ah, ah – "

"Girl? Cat? Rogue?" Machaira tried to finish for him.

"Amateur," Fabian corrected. "I mean, you're very good, but you said it yourself, you've had no formal training. And I practice every day! I just, how, it's not, I'm – "

"Ostentatious," Machaira said bluntly. "Fabian, you are a good fighter, ok. Better than I am."

"Okay, there's no need to coddle – "

"I'm not coddling you," she growled. "I'm trying to help you. Now shut up, for thirty seconds, please!" She took a quick breath and continued more calmly. "You're a good fighter, and you know it. But you keep trying to prove how good you are by adding all this extra… flair to your fighting style. If you stopped flipping and prancing and showing off, I wouldn't have so many openings. And I know to wait for all that shit because I know you can't resist showing off. Stop trying to peacock your skill and just fucking use it."

"My father has always said it's not enough to be good, you have to be the best and prove it." Fabian countered.

"You might not want to hear this, but you're not Bill Seacaster," Machaira said bluntly. This was less about taking Fabian down a peg as it was about keeping him alive in a real fight. "You are Fabian Seacaster." Fabian opened his mouth, but Machaira cut him off. "I don't care what your dad tells you. There is a time and place to show off, and the middle of a fight is never it. You want to add a flair for the dramatic? Fine, do it after you've actually beaten the guy. Or don't and get killed." She jabbed him hard in the ribs with a finger. Fabian flinched and winced. "I just handed you your ass six times over and not because I'm stronger or faster or smarter than you. I'm not! I'm just not stupid enough to stand there and let you prance around like you're in a god damn musical number. And the more you lose, the more you try to overcompensate, and the easier it is to beat you. You want to be as good as your dad, then fight like it."

Fabian tried to sputter a rebuttal, stammering so badly he could barely form a recognizable word. Machaira slapped him hard across the cheek, which was quite difficult since Fabian was almost a full foot taller than her. The crisp sound rang across the lawn. A few other fighters looked over, but Machaira paid them no mind. Fabian stared at her, shocked, holding his face and flapping his mouth like he couldn't believe she had the gall to strike him that way. He'd probably never been slapped.

"Get back in there," Machaira growled, flashing her teeth and pointing to the red paint circle on the grass. "Draw your sword, and fight me. No flips, no unnecessary jumping, no bullshit. Right now." Fabian blinked and hurried off to the ring, subconsciously recognizing the alpha female.

Machaira drew her saber and prowled over. She attacked relentlessly, giving Fabian everything she had, treating him with the same ferocity she would a real enemy. The fighter was constantly on the move, rapier barely blocking her strikes, sweat pouring down his face, eyes wide with fear as he realized that if he didn't perform at the top of his game she would actually hurt him. Both combatants panted, grunted, and strained to keep up with each other. But in the end, there could be only one victor, predetermined by their relative strength, skill, and speed. When Fabian ended the match with his rapier at her throat, Machaira was not surprised. She sheathed her blade, took a step back, and held out her hand.

"Good fight," she said, smiling. Fabian looked at her for a moment before shaking her hand.

"That was quite the contest, very well fought," Fabian conceded. "Seriously, though, I thought you were going to kill me."

"A real enemy will try," she reasoned.

"Good job, both of you," their instructor complimented, a seasoned ranger with a longsword across her back and a shield on her arm. "Machaira, you need to work on your spacing. Your feet are too close together; it's weakening your stance." She tapped Machaira's legs apart to demonstrate. "Fabian, good form out there. Glad to see that you picked up some of your partner's style."

"Well, Machaira is a, ah, very skilled and, uh, you know, fierce opponent," Fabian praised. "But those were all moves I learned myself – or rather, from my private tutor, Herzon."

"I wasn't talking about your maneuvers," the instructor corrected. "I was talking about the execution." She gave Fabian a pointed look. Fabian blushed and stuttered. "You're lucky to have a partner that will stand up to you like that. We need our party to keep us on our toes." She turned and smiled at Machaira, who dipped her head, blushing a bit. She'd be the first to admit their teacher was tough-cute. "Keep it up you two." She turned and walked away. Fabian smiled sheepishly, scratching his head.

"I, uh, thanks. Christ, I'm sorry. That was, uh, well, yes, sorry." He stammered. Machaira tilted her head, smiling.

"You're my teammate and my friend," she told him. "I'm always gonna look out for you, even when you don't want me to."

"I appreciate it, really," he assured her. "But for god's sake, was it really necessary to slap me?"

"Absolutely," she assured him, stepping back into a ready stance, paying attention to where she put her feet. "And for the record, I'll take Fabian Seacaster over Bill Seacaster any day of the week."

"**I'm gonna pace around the house like a German Shephard" – Fig**

Machaira heard the change in heart rate first. Her ear flicked at the shift. She didn't like to monitor people's body functions, but sometimes she couldn't filter the information out. And this was something she'd begun to listen for more closely: not just the quickening of the beat but the irregularity of it as well. Her pencil hovered over her work for a moment before she kept writing, one ear swiveling over to the other side of the table. Her tail tip twitched, waiting.

Next came the smell: sweat, fear, and confusion stealing over the warm, comfortable scents around her. Machaira parted her lips, drawing air over the roof of her mouth. The sour, almost acrid tang of panic bloomed on her tongue, sharper than normal. Now she could hear the change in breathing, shallow and rapid, exhalations just longer than the inhalations. The tabaxi looked up.

Adaine was sitting across from her, fingers clenched white around her pen. Her arm trembled from her grip. Her thin chest rose up and down under her blouse several times a second. Her eyes were wide, unfocused and staring, fixed on the book in front of her even though Machaira knew she wasn't absorbing it. Her complexion had paled further, perspiration spreading across her face. The high elf shivered in her seat, posture rigid, shoulders curled inward atop a straight back, face bent forward so a few strands of hair few out from behind her pointed ears.

Machaira calmly slipped her paper into a book and closed it, packing her things. She pulled her bag over one shoulder and slowly walked around the table to Adaine. Adaine clearly knew she was moving toward her but barely reacted save to flinch a little further inward. Machaira brushed the pads of her finger tips against the elf's shoulder. She could feel the tightness in the muscle, the little flinches as her friend reacted to stimuli outside her control. Machaira knelt down next to her and stared Adaine in the eyes. Adaine tried to remain locked on her page, but eventually those pale blue eyes flicked over to her. Machaira did her best to pour sympathy into her expression. She never knew why but Adaine always seemed unable to look away, hypnotized by something in Machaira's gaze. The rogue reached out and gently took hold of her hand, thumb rubbing circles over her knuckles.

"Can you let go of the pen for me?" She asked, mouth hardly moving as she lowered her voice to a soft whisper. Adaine stared at her for a moment, trembling, before she loosened her death grip. Machaira slipped the pen into Adaine's bag, along with the book she was reading.

"No, I, I, I have a, a test tomorrow," Adaine rasped, voice shaky and unsure. "I, I, need to, to study or I won't do well enough and, and then – "

"You will study, and you will do well," Machaira promised her, quiet but firm. "But right now, you're going to take a walk with me, ok?" Adaine shuddered, looking as if she'd been asked to walk the plank.

"But we – we're not allowed to, to leave – "

"We'll be okay," Machaira assured her. "I need you to trust me, okay?" Adaine gave what could have passed for a nod and stood shakily. Machaira picked up her book bag and slung it over her shoulder with her own. She wrapped her tail around Adaine's waist, and the wizard immediately grabbed it, grasping her tightly. It honestly wasn't a great feeling, but Machaira did not react, merely offering Adaine a hand to lead her toward the stairs. The tabaxi put her arm around her friend's quivering shoulders to both guide her out of the library and hide her panic from less friendly observers. Mrs. Dimweather tried to reprimand them on their way out, but Machaira ignored her. Adaine shrunk away from the voice and toward Machaira, one arm clutched to her chest.

Ultimately she allowed herself to be steered out the doors and around the building to a little fountain. The footpath around the fountain was itself ringed with trees, and its location on campus meant that by sitting under the tree furthest from the main building, one was essentially invisible from almost every part of the school. Even the crystals did not record out here. Machaira led Adaine over to the tree and sat under it in a little nook between two roots. She did not pull the elf but merely held her hand as she sat down, laying their bags on her left. Adaine stared at her, confused, frightened, and anxious. The tabaxi looked up at her, silently inviting her to sit. Adaine sank toward Machaira, movements jerky. Bird song rang around them. A weak, stuttering breeze just moved the tree branches. Dappled sun and shade threw patterns of leaves across them.

"Why are we here?" Adaine asked, eyes shining. "I, I told you, I _told_ you, I have a test tomorrow, and I need to do well, and my parents will be mad if I get my skirt dirty, and why are we here? Why couldn't – " Machaira put her arm around Adaine's shoulders and held the elf in a one-armed hug, tail still wrapped around her waist. She briefly tilted her head to rest it against Adaine's, intentionally breathing slow and deep.

"And I told you," she murmured. "You will study. You will do well on the test. Not might, will." The tabaxi had full confidence in her friend, and she let that show. "You don't even like your skirt. But right now, we're going to just going to sit together."

Adaine had been a wreck all day. She didn't want to make eye contact with Machaira that morning, almost dropped her ball because her hands were so sweaty, and couldn't properly finish a sentence. The wizard had been jittery and shivering during their insight class. She had tried to skip free period and lunch with the party under the claim that she had to study. When Machaira looked for her in the library during sixth period, Adaine had been at the dim corner table they'd first sat at on day two. Machaira had watched her swallow down panic attacks all day, holding them back but not free of their source.

Machaira held Adaine's eyes. Her friend was afraid and uncomfortable and confused. And Machaira knew, if she needed Adaine right then, really needed her, her friend would be there for her. Some people were born dumb, ugly, and deformed. Adaine was born a little sick, and everything about her home and family had made it worse. But she was stronger than her malady, than her upbringing. Adaine hadn't run from her family the way Machaira had; she endured them and grew strong despite it. In Machaira's eyes, the young elf was a rare and beautiful creature, a person worth admiring. And Machaira let that emotion flow through her body, let it show in her face, well up from her eyes.

Adaine looked her in the eye and momentarily stilled. She hesitantly rested her head on Machaira's shoulder. Machaira rubbed her bicep just a little, firm enough to not be sensual and slow enough to be calming. A tear dropped down Adaine's face, following the curve of her nose and dripping onto Machaira's jacket. Soon Adaine was well and truly crying, pent up frustration and fear finally breaking free. The elf was striving to stay silent, shoulders shaking with the effort of it, rolling inward as if to hide her shame from Machaira.

The tabaxi pressed her head against Adaine's again, murmuring soft nothings to her as she rubbed the other girl's arm. Adaine turned toward the rogue more, pressing her whole face into Machaira's shoulder. She put a hand on her chest, thin fingers digging into the scaly material of her jacket, other arm going around her back. Machaira pulled her into a tighter hug, reaching around with her left arm to hold Adaine's shoulder.

Soon Adaine was sitting in Machaira's lap, head buried in her chest, crying as she held onto Machaira's back and waist. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her entire body enveloped by Machaira's legs. Machaira held Adaine to her with one arm, rubbing her back gently as she stroked her hair with the other hand. The tabaxi murmured softly to her, telling her that she wasn't alone, letting the wizard know that Machaira was here for her. The sunlight was warmer than the library, but Adaine still trembled against her. The rogue could feel the tightness in her muscles, in her chest as Adaine completely broke down and began to talk.

Adaine wasn't at her most eloquent just then. Between the crying, Machaira's jacket muffling her voice, and Adaine's overall quietness, it wasn't easy to understand her. Adaine also kept slipping between common and elven, and while Machaira spoke elven, it didn't come naturally to her. But the rogue got the gist of it.

Adaine hadn't seen anyone from the party that weekend. She'd had to spend her time with her family, which included some important dinner with her parents' friends that she was made to sit at but not talk during for hours. Finally, when one of her parents' friends asked about her, her father had mentioned that since Adaine hadn't gotten a grade from Aguefort yet it couldn't be said that she was doing well there. Adaine had protested that she'd already survived her first battle, and her mother had asked her not to remind them of her lackluster wizardry performance. Aelwyn had somehow known Adaine had her first test that Tuesday, which Adaine had only prepared for in private. Her father had then expressed that he would be very disappointed in her if she failed out of two schools. Adaine had spent the rest of the weekend badgered by her parents and needled by her sister.

At some point during the explanation Goldenhoard had walked up, face stern as he set out to discover why they were not inside studying. When, from a distance, he saw Adaine crying and shaking in Machaira's arms and met the very aggressive, pointed look the tabaxi gave him, the dragonborn had shuffled about awkwardly and walked away.

For a while after Adaine had finished, Machaira did not speak. She merely held her friend, rubbing her back and stroking her hair. Machaira pressed her lips into Adaine's hair line and held them there too long to be considered a proper kiss. When she eventually pulled back the tabaxi tucked Adaine closer to her, tail wrapped around both of them like a fluffy seat belt.

Eventually Adaine began to calm down, emotions descending from the pressured spike they had been building toward for days and dropping into the valley of exhaustion. Adaine sniffled a bit, fingers weakly picking at Machaira's jacket. She tucked her head, perhaps subconsciously, toward Machaira's hand, encouraging the hair stroking and pressing her face into the tabaxi's chest, eyes fixed on one of the polished bone buttons.

"I'm sorry," Adaine rasped, voice so quiet Machaira could hardly hear her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Machaira insisted gently.

"You took me out here so no one would see me embarrass myself, huh?" Adaine's expression was one of miserable mortification. The statement was true, but the rogue didn't have to admit that.

"I took you out here so you could get some sunlight," Machaira said instead, which was also true. "I think you might have needed this. You've been so distressed and unhappy all day. I was really worried for you." Adaine whined a bit in the back of her throat.

"Why am I so pathetic?" She mumbled.

"You're not pathetic." Machaira said firmly. "You're one of the strongest, bravest people I know. You are." Machaira's voice invited no dispute, tilting Adaine's head up to meet her gaze and see how firmly the rogue believed her claim. Adaine seemed so small then, staring at Machaira with huge, wet eyes. Machaira's conviction must have shown through because blue orbs meet gold and locked, daunted but mesmerized.

"You are a strong, capable young woman," Machaira insisted, softening her expression. "But even the strongest people need to be weak sometimes."

"You don't." Machaira smirked.

"Just because you haven't seen me breakdown doesn't mean I don't have those moments," the tabaxi informed her. "We all need time to just… be. To be sad and scared and stressed. But you don't have to be alone for it." She pulled Adaine in, holding the elf close. Adaine squeezed her back, pulling a hand away to wipe at her face and nose. Adaine splayed her fingers over Machaira's heart before grabbing a fistful of her jacket. There was a part of the tabaxi that yearned to have this level of physical affection and intimacy with the high elf every day, but she knew that could never happen as long as she was still afraid of her friend's rejection.

"If you can pull me out of a flipped car, you can handle one dumb test," Machaira asserted with feeling if less than stellar logic. "Screw your family. You got this, Adaine. And I've got you." Adaine gave her a small, bright smile.

"Thank you," she said, pulling away to sit back against the tree. Machaira did not try to restrain Adaine, dropping her arms to her side and laying her tail along the ground.

"I'm always happy to be there for you," the rogue responded. Adaine scooted into her side, and Machaira took it as an invitation. She replaced an arm around her back, encouraging the elf to use her shoulder for a pillow again. She could feel the tension melting away from her friend. Somewhere behind them the bell for the end of the day rang. Birds fluttered about the leaves, trying to tempt Machaira from her comfy seat. The sun was warm but not stifling under the tree. Machaira pulled her tail around her back and draped it across both their laps. The fluffy tip flicked with every small movement around them. Adaine didn't quite laugh but huffed as she attempted to pet her tail flat, smoothing down the hairs of her unruly limb, lightly resisting the rebellious flicking. The tabaxi half closed her eyes at the attention.

"Sometimes I feel like you're the only one who cares," Adaine mumbled.

"The whole party cares," Machaira told her. "I'm just the one you choose to talk to."

"That's because you kinda chase after me," Adaine countered. Machaira tilted her head, swinging her muzzle into a patch of sunlight to better look at the high elf.

"Should I stop?" She asked, completely serious. The wizard shook her head adamantly.

"I don't think I'd have anyone to talk to if you stopped," she said.

"You'd still have them," Machaira assured her. "I'm just the one who's too impatient to wait for you."

"It feels like you're always waiting for me," the other girl argued.

"That's why I'm so impatient," Machaira teased, tail whipping up to thwap her friend in the face.

"Pfft," Adaine spat out a few strands of fur and held her tail down with both hands, glaring at the tabaxi in mock outrage. Machaira felt the urge to purr, but the sound remained blocked, her mind and body unable to express the emotion naturally. The deep, lingering anxiety that her friend would leave her once she knew what Machaira had done with herself, how she'd grown up and why, held back the expression. So instead she butted the crown of her skull against Adaine's shoulder and neck, pushing her existential shame aside in favor of enjoying the moment. With Adaine snuggled against her and the sun warm against her scarred pelt, the tabaxi was sorely tempted to nap. Instead she pulled the bags over and took out their respective books.

"Time to teach your parents a lesson," Machaira declared. "By acing the fuck outta that test." Adaine grinned, and the two settled down to work. Adaine sat cross-legged, book in her lap while Machaira propped her homework against her knees, tail curled around her butt under her arched legs. The girls did not speak or touch as they worked until a few hours later when Adaine announced that she was hungry. They walked down to a little café where Adaine got a salad and Machaira picked at a grilled cheese that had far too much bread for her taste. The friends barely talked as they ate and continued to work in silence there until the café closed. Machaira walked Adaine home, the elf grumbling about how she wouldn't have to walk if her parents let her drive and the tabaxi mentally reflecting that Adaine was fortunate to live so close to school.

The next day Machaira met Adaine at the bus stop, taking the increasingly useless orb as had become their custom. The high elf greeted her with a shine in her eyes and a power to her step, every line of her body bursting with determination. The rogue saluted the wizard before she sauntered away at the end of insight class, entirely unconcerned for her friend. Sure enough, come lunch, Adaine sat next to Machaira and flashed her that bright, neat smile that made everything in the world feel right, even if for a moment.

"**I just think that we don't always have to lie to them" – Kristen Applebees**

"I just think we should be doing more," Riz said for the fourth time. He and Machaira had chosen the same workshop the day of Adaine's first test, a trap-springing exercise that required more mental acuity than Machaira necessarily possessed. Everyone had been given a puzzle box that required cultural and historical knowledge to solve, each containing a different trap and a piece of treasure. Anyone who turned in the piece of treasure without getting hurt by the end of period received credit for the class. Already three other rogues had been injured opening their box. The traps were not fatal, but they were painful, adding another incentive to pass the assignment.

"I know Biz is doing his best, I've spent more time with him than anyone of you," the goblin repeated. He had already determined that his puzzle box required him to align a wooden tile labeled with the name and symbol of different planes of existence with its relative alignment in the astral field among good, evil, lawful, and chaotic. Machaira had deciphered the draconic runes on hers as the names of devils and demons, but she was still figuring out what she needed to do with them to open the box.

"Biz is definitely making progress to free Sam, but we could be more active about figuring out who imprisoned her and why." Riz tapped the table for emphasis, constantly looking around at the instructor to make sure the wily Halfling wasn't eavesdropping. "We never broke into that dance studio, for starters. We need to go there and see what we can find."

"You mean the dance studio the police searched the day after we slaughtered those tieflings?" Machaira asked absently. Since most of her speech came from her chest and throat, she could growl words at such a low frequency it was almost impossible for anyone more than five feet away to discern, though it tended to put people on edge.

"We might be able to find something they missed," Riz insisted again. "And anything is better than the nothing we're doing now."

"It's not nothing, it's patience," she countered, reading through the names again: Asmodeus, Geryon, Lolth, Demogorgon, Zariel, Yeenoghu, Baphomet. She swept on down the list, eighteen names total.

"We're patiently doing nothing," Riz snapped. Machaira looked up at him down the length of her muzzle, treating Riz to her best 'unimpressed cat' look.

"Do you even hear yourself?" She asked, turning her gaze back to the box. "We have a plan of action: to covertly meet Johnny Spells's contact at the Black Pit. It has to take place at Tea Time. Anything extra risks discovery. So far, we've had a frankly incredible stroke of luck at hiding in plain sight."

"So we're just sitting on our asses and hiding?" Riz demanded, incredulous.

"We're multitasking," Machaira corrected. Nine devils, nine demons, all lords. Nine tiles stacked on top of each other would stretch from the top of the box to the bottom. Two sets of grooves in the middle with tiny, barely visible brass latches.

"How?" Riz asked, louder than he probably meant to, long green fingers drumming recklessly over the top of his booby-trapped box.

"We're learning how to function as a team, for starters," Machaira pointed out. "All of those 'get-togethers' you called pointless, that helps us learn to work together. When you understand the people around you, you can work with them." Riz's eyes widened, and he grinned, straightening as if she had finally said something interesting. "But there's another function to it all."

"What?" He asked, excited. She shot him another deadpan, taking a moment to properly smell the box. Something inside it was metal, different from the brass. Iron, perhaps? But was that the treasure or the trap?

"To have fun," she drawled. "To live our lives for the present. When we call each other friends, we're not just saying that because we're useful to each other, Riz." Riz looked a little hurt, and Machaira winced. Perhaps she was being too hard on him. "Look, we all want to get to the bottom of this. I know you have a bigger stake than the rest of us, and I promise we'll help you save Penny. But you can't neglect what's right in front of you. Take a second to live without this shadow hanging over you."

"Ok, so what exactly should I be doing then?" Riz asked. Machaira tested the lid of the box, pushing up against it while it was still locked, trying to feel how much tension was behind the lid. It seemed as if the only source of tension came from the lock itself. If she was right, that meant the trap wasn't some kind of spring-loaded projectile.

"You can start by finishing this workshop," Machaira said pointedly, lifting the box and judging its weight. It felt like it should be hollow all the way through, so probably no secret compartments. At least she hoped not.

"That would certainly be a good use of both of your times," the rogue instructor agreed, materializing at their table. Riz jumped, and Machaira nearly dropped her box. "If you have time for chit-chat, I assume you have already solved your puzzle box." The Halfling said calmly, hands behind his back. He stared at Machaira, eyes revealing nothing. He remained there for several seconds, clearly expecting her to open it. Machaira set the box down and stared at it. She was out of time.

Machaira unsheathed the claw on her right index finger and used it to carefully drag wooden tiles across the surface of the box. Most maps of the astral plane but the lawful beings on the left for some reason, so Machaira arranged the devils on the left side with Asmodeus at the bottom, filtering down the chain of command until she slid Zariel at the top. On impulse, Machaira arranged the demons in the opposite order with Demogorgon at the top. When she was halfway through the demons, she noticed that the box was new, shiny wood but some of the brass latches were tarnished. Suspicion flared in her brain.

Machaira slowly slid the last tile into place. The lock clicked inside the box. Machaira's hands hovered over it. What was she doing? There was no way it was this easy. She took a deep breath, drawing the cold classroom air over the roof of her mouth. There, hidden under the smell of wood and metal, was the almost imperceptible scent of glass, an odor so weak it was almost not there at all.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Mekhit." The instructor never asked questions, only made statements.

"No, she replied, leaning off the edge of her stool to grab a nearby trashcan, one of the tiny metal buckets that a trash bag could barely fit inside. She dumped its contents on the floor at the instructor's feet. Other students stared at her, confused and unnerved by this show of disrespect, but the Halfling did not so much as blink. Machaira removed the now empty bag and stuffed the box inside, quadruple tying a knot around the top.

She unsheathed her dagger and delicately levered the lid of the box open, only touching the box through the bag with the edge of her blade, hardly applying any pressure so as to not cut the bag. As the lid opened, glass tinkled to the bottom of the box. The bag began to swell, a faint greenish color showing through. Machaira eased the box to the bottom of the bag, keeping the box level as she carried the bag by both the bottom and the top to a nearby window. Sticking the bag out the window, Machaira quickly checked that the wind wasn't blowing into the room before puncturing the bag with her dagger point. Toxic gas belched from the plastic, whirling around the building. Machaira held her breath, head tucked around the inside of the glass pane until she was sure the gas had properly dissipated.

Machaira carried the bag over to the table she was sharing with Riz. She removed the box from the bag and an iron ring from the box. She held it out to the teacher on her palm. The Halfling stared at her, expression still unreadable.

"Clean up this mess, and you pass." He told her, taking the ring and turning to Riz. Riz quickly slid the last of the wooden tiles to their respective places on the top of his box and Machaira set about picking up the disgusting tissues and paper wads she'd dumped on the ground. When Machaira looked back at Riz, the goblin was using his arquebus barrel to apply pressure to the center of the box while he hooked a ring out with his rapier tip.

Riz, standing on the table behind the lid of his box, angled his rapier up so that the ring slid down to the hilt. He then leapt back from the box. A ten-inch serrated spike shattered the bottom of the box where the ring had been, scraping harshly against the retreating gun barrel. Riz handed his ring to the teacher, who nodded approvingly before moving on to the next table.

"See?" Machaira said. "We can multitask." The Halfling paused, glancing at her over his shoulder, face still inscrutable, before he kept going. Riz snickered. Machaira nudged him with her elbow, and he grinned.

Later that night, Machaira was just crawling into 'bed' when her crystal buzzed. She grumbled, belly full of tortoise from a late-night hunt. It was getting harder and harder to find food the longer she stayed in one place, and the sensation of being full was a rare treat she dearly wanted to sleep on. Wondering why on earth Adaine would be up at this time, let alone texting her, Machaira checked her messages. To her surprise, it was Riz who had messaged her. While it made more sense that Riz would be up at three in the morning, no one else in the party had tried to contact her outside of school before.

3:04 a.m. Riz Gukgak: Ok, you were right. Got Fabian and tried to sleuth around the dance studio. Found nothing and almost got arrested by my mom. Had to run from the cops. Fabian carried me like a ball. Total disaster, could have ruined everything. Sorry

3:07 a.m. Machaira Mekhit: Why didn't you invite me?

3:08 a.m. Riz GukGak: … you said it was a bad idea

3:09 a.m. Machaira Mekhit: It was. But I still would have come along. I'm part of your party, Riz. I'm gonna support you when you go temporarily brain dead and do something stupid.

3:10 a.m. Riz GukGak: I feel like that was almost a really nice thing there

3:10 a.m. Machaira Mekhit: Almost.

3:12 a.m. Riz GukGak: LOL. Want to go to Krom's after school tomorrow? Fabian said he'd buy as long as Kristen didn't do her scarf dance

3:13 a.m. Machaira Mekhit: Absolutely.

"**You're not going to steal my shoes?" – Fabian Implying that Bubble Glitterdew is a Thief**

Machaira made her way over to the barbarian section of the school. It was a roundabout way to get to her fourth period class, but she liked to catch Gorgug at his locker between classes. The tabaxi sometimes worried that Gorgug was ignored during group plans or conversations, and she wanted him to feel valued. So Machaira had taken to hunting him down between classes and asking how his day was going, just to give him a little extra attention.

"Hi Gorgug," she called out to the half-orc.

"Hi Machaira," Gorgug greeted her, smiling. Machaira frowned. Gorgug had a bruise on the side of his head.

"How are you doing?" She asked. "Looks like last period got a little rough."

"Oh, yeah," Gorgug said sheepishly. "I, uh, hit my head on, well, someone hit me in the head when I wasn't looking."

"Are you okay? That looks kinda sore." Machaira reached up as if to touch the bruise, but Gorgug was so much taller than her that she could only point at the purplish blotch.

"Oh, yeah, I got a little mad, but I'm okay now," he assured her. "I get hit in the head a lot." Machaira bit her lip, trying to quickly come up with something comforting to say, when someone else spoke for her.

"Yeah you do, you fucking freak," Ragh Barkrock yelled, stomping over. "You get hit and then you fucking sing like a goddamn jack-in-the-box. Fucking loser steals backpacks to jerk off in them, and he fucking sings when people beat the shit out of him. This loser's a fucking freak." Everyone present laughed, some joining Ragh in taunting Gorgug. More than two dozen people present, and no one was standing up for the freshman.

"Knock it off, Barkrock," Machaira growled, voice deepening to reverberate off the lockers until the hall rattled with an echo of her voice. She moved to stand between him and Gorgug, hackles bristling. Ragh hadn't noticed her until then, and the jock stiffened, expression suddenly wary. The hallway quieted, students going still with suspense. Ever since their last fight Machaira and Ragh had been avoiding each other, refusing to speak or make eye contact in the rare event that they passed each other in the hallway. Ragh hadn't had anyone hold their own against him in a long time, much less drop him. The half-orc was reluctant to risk another confrontation lest it ruin his powerhouse reputation.

For her part, Machaira knew a fight with Ragh was not a smart idea. The half-orc was stupid, but he was backed by the most powerful people in school, both students and pro-sports faculty. She had been tolerated after their last scrap, but if she went looking for a fight there was no way anyone would take her side. More immediately concerning, she knew that the only reason their last fight had gone so equal was that Ragh had made the mistake of lowering his head when he first rammed into her, giving her an early chance to grab onto his skull and really hurt him. There was no way he would make that mistake again. If it ever came down to it, she would lose. Her only advantage was that Ragh might not know that.

"Of course the fucking cat is friends with this loser," Ragh blustered, looking around the hallway for support. "Fucking losers only have losers for friends."

"Big talk," Machaira drawled, crossing her arms. _Don't yell, look unimpressed: that's how you intimidate them_. "Especially since you got your ass handed to you by both us 'losers'. If you're worse than two losers, does that make you a super-loser?" People started muttering. Someone yelled 'Burn!'. Machaira kept her eyes on Ragh. The half-orc looked around the hallway at the other students. He turned back to Machaira and clenched his jaw, huffing. His eyes turned red. Ragh went into a rage. Shit. She may have overestimated how much Ragh had been spooked by their last fight.

Ragh roared and ran at her with a haymaker that could punch through cinderblock. Machaira made as if to meet his charge and dropped down at the last second to dash between his legs. Ragh managed to grab her tail as she was going under and pulled. Pain exploded along her spine. Colored spots burst across her vision as the jock dragged her back and up against her momentum. Forgetting how absolutely stupid it was to bite someone who still had full use of their limbs, Machaira sank her fangs into Ragh's calf as he pulled her past. During his rage the half-orc was resistant to physical attacks, but at the end of the day bone was still bone. Machaira's jaws were stronger than a Gnoll's, and Ragh's tibia crunched under her teeth.

Ragh bellowed, seizing and pulling Machaira up by the neck so hard a chunk of his leg came off in her jaws. Machaira had a split second to claw at the hand choking her before she was flung. Machaira had an instinctive sense of which way was up and could usually use her tail to spin midair and land on her feet. But Ragh had thrown her with such force that, tail and spine lancing with pain as they were, she could do nothing but smash against the floor. She knew immediately that she'd broken a rib. Hot spikes shot from her chest, cutting her breaths short. Everything hurt along her back. Her limbs fought her as she struggled to stand, head swimming. She more vomited than released the chunk of Ragh she had in her mouth.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Ragh cried, barely able to stand, tottering around the hall in her general direction. When he ripped her free she'd actually taken a good six inches of his right shin with her. Even for a raging orc, that had to hurt. Ragh fumbled to hold his long sword with just his left hand. His right hand was scored with deep gouges from where she'd severed tendons from wrist to knuckles. Machaira drew her saber, but she was staggering drunkenly, striving for every breath. Her back was spasming, and her vision blurred in the fluorescent light. There was no way she'd be able to dodge his attack. Still she snarled, baring bloodied fangs and fluffing out her mane. _This is a really disappointing way to die_.

"Don't hit my friend!" Gorgug roared, eyes blazing as he also entered a rage. Gorgug smashed his ax into Ragh's sword and sent it spinning down the hall. Ragh swung and punched him, knocking him back against the lockers. Machaira limped toward them, snarling, but she really wasn't needed. _BAM BAM BAM_! Gorgug swung the flat of his ax blade like a baseball bat, slapping Ragh across the face in a series of reckless attacks. Ragh fell backward and began to crawl away, crying. Gorgug jogged over to stand between Ragh and Machaira, lip pulled down to reveal more of his tusks.

"You're fucking freaks, man," Ragh yelled. "You're both fucking freaks. This girl fucking bit me, and he just fucking hit me! These losers are fuckin' maniacs!"

"Then why do you keep losing?" Machaira taunted spitefully.

"Are you crying?" Gorgug accused.

"Dude, these guys fucking suck," Ragh bawled, wiping his nose. "Fuck you dudes." A cleric in the crowd took pity on Ragh and ran over to him, hugging the wall opposite Gorgug and Machaira. Gorgug came down out of his rage looked at Machaira bashfully.

"Uh, sorry," he said softly. Machaira sheathed her sword and put her hand on Gorgug's arm, as much to physically support herself as to console her gentle-hearted friend. Privately she wondered if Adaine felt this same mix of exasperation and affection when Machaira got nervous around her for hurting people.

"You did great," she assured him.

"I could have hit him sooner though."

"Yeah, but then you'd be at fault," she pointed out. "Now Ragh is just an asshole who picked a fight out of nowhere and got his ass handed to him." Gorgug smiled at her.

"I guess," he mumbled. "Thanks for sticking up for me." Machaira put an arm around his back.

"Dude, you beat the crap out of Ragh Barkrock twice now," she reminded him. "I'm not sure you need anyone to stand up for you. Now, please, please help me find a cleric before he gets back up."

"**I'm always down to talk to someone about God!" – Kristen's nat 1 response to lesbian flirting**

"Hey, Machaira." The tabaxi took her head out of her locker to see Kristen jogging over, weaving around students to avoid smacking them with her staff.

"Oh, hi, Kristen," Machaira said, closing her locker. "Did the others decide to meet up?" It was second period, Thursday of week two. For once, everyone had their own thing to do during free period. Machaira had intended to get a little homework out of the way early, but she honestly didn't have enough to take up her whole period.

"Uh, actually, I was hoping you and I could hang out?" Kristen smiled at her, just a tiny bit nervous.

"Um, sure, okay. Yeah, why not." Machaira managed to get out, unable to completely hide her surprise. She wasn't Kristen's favorite person in the group, and if she was honest Kristen wasn't hers. They had never hung out alone together before. She wasn't sure why Kristen wanted to now.

"Great," Kristen seemed to sense her hesitance, and the redhead's smile dimmed. Machaira felt a twinge of regret. She could be harsh on their resident fanatic sometimes.

"What did you have in mind?" Machaira asked, trying to give the cleric an eager smile that she knew didn't quite reach her heart.

"Um, I kinda wanted to talk to you about, like, religious stuff," Kristen said, wincing a little. Machaira felt her shoulders sag. Of course.

"Look, Kristen, I know you're Helio's chosen – "

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about your god," Kristen interrupted, smiling awkwardly. Machaira stared at her. She blinked hard. Nope, that was definitely Kristen standing here.

"You… want to hear about Bast?" Machaira asked skeptically.

"Well, yeah, I mean, Helio was kinda a letdown, and I've been reading about some of the things the crusaders of Helio did." Kristen shuffled a bit, readjusting her backpack strap and almost clocking herself on the head with her own staff. "I, uh, I mean, I never see you pray, but you seem to be kinda into Bast so I, uh, thought I'd hear what that's all about." Kristen rocked from heel to toe a bit, still smiling. Machaira took a deep breath. Not the most respectful way her beliefs had been approached but certainly not the worst. Maybe this was an opportunity to actually connect with Kristen outside of killing things and almost dying.

"Uh, sure. Let's go outside." Machaira and Kristen walked out to the common area in front of the school and sat down on the front steps. Machaira tilted her head to meet the sunlight, relishing the heat against her scars. Summer was on its last legs, and the tropical tabaxi was trying to savor the last relatively warm days before fall set it.

"How much do you know about Bast?" Machaira asked, eyes closed as she basked.

"Um, well, I know she's the cat goddess and… that's about it." Kristen summarized. "Is that why you worship her? Because you're a cat?" Machaira knew to expect that question by now. She'd also already discussed her beliefs with Adaine and, oddly enough, Fig, so she had hopes that this would be a bloodless conversation.

"I'm as much a person as I am a cat," Machaira gently reminded Kristen. "But no, most tabaxi don't worship Bast." Kristen's eyebrows flexed up. "Bast did create the tabaxi after the aboleth war, but – "

"What's the aboleth war?" Kristen asked. Machaira frowned at her.

"The war between the gods and aboleths," she answered slowly. "Kristen, that's not religious, that's in almost every history book ever." Machaira took out her own history book recommended by the school to show her.

"I've never heard of this," Kristen muttered. "What happened?" Machaira took a deep breath. Gods, she wished she had a glass of wine or two to go with this.

"So, this is a historical account that most scholars and sages agree upon, that before the gods, there were these creatures called aboleths that enslaved the mortal races."

"Mortal races?" _Patience is a virtue_, Machaira reminded herself.

"The elves, dwarves, ancestors of the aarakocra, early humans, etc." Machaira elaborated.

"How were any of those around before Sol?" Kristen asked.

"Sol didn't create the mortal races," Machaira told her. Kristen's eyes flew open.

"What? No, that can't be right. How, then where, what – " She babbled.

"Kristen, the entire history of everything is a little long of a conversation for us to have right now," Machaira said, holding up a hand. "But the origin of the mortal races is known, it's verified, and it's in the school curriculum. You can borrow my history book if you want, but let's get to that after Bast, unless you don't want to talk about that?"

"No, sorry, sorry," she apologized, holding a hand to her temple. "It's just… I never learned about any of this at my old school. I grew up with the story about how Sol created the universe in seven days. I just thought everyone… I just thought that was it. It's kind of a lot to take in." Machaira again felt a stab of sympathy for her friend. _Take it one step at a time_.

"So, aboleths were these powerful beings that enslaved the mortal races, right?" Machaira began again. "The gods were born – again, different conversation, it's in the history book – and people started worshipping the gods. Worship made the gods more powerful, gods fought the aboleths, gods won, new age began, etc. Bast was not, and still isn't, one of the powerhouses among the gods. She was an assassin for the sun god Ra – Sol's predecessor." Kristen gaped and began sputtering. "Sweetheart, I know that's a huge mind fuck for you, but I need you to stay with me, okay?"

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure, okay, I'm with you," Kristen nodded, eyes wide and a little spaced.

"Right, so Bast was Ra's right hand woman. She carried out his orders, namely killing powerful enemies of the gods. When the aboleth war ended, all the other gods started vying for everyone's worship, trying to convince them to act a certain way and support particular alliances. Some deities even created their own races. Bast created the tabaxi. But she created us without alignment so that we could choose our own path. We could worship other gods, do what we wanted with our lives. It was her way of challenging the other gods that tried to manipulate people into believing in them."

"But you said most tabaxi don't worship Bast, even though she created you?" Kristen asked.

"Yes, Bast rejects the modern tabaxi culture," Machaira confirmed. "Currently tabaxi culture values beauty and putting on a charismatic and well-respected face over any actual ethics. Instead of Bast, most tabaxi worship a demigod called the Cat Lord, an immortal trickster who fucks with people for fun. The Cat Lord promises that, in return for worshipping him, his followers will have beautiful children and be clever and devious. Ugly children are said to be his idea of a practical joke, or a curse." Machaira refused to meet Kristen's gaze, instead staring at the sky. There was no way she'd be able to hide her bitterness.

"That's horrible," Kristen exclaimed. Machaira nodded, relieved that Kristen hadn't picked up on her sudden moodiness. Adaine certainly had. "Why would anyone worship someone like that?"

"No clue," she responded truthfully. "I was never a part of it. Anyway, Bast was an assassin for the gods, but she had one big job she had to do. Every night, Ra went to this abyssal plain called the River of Night to face his mortal enemy, the great serpent Apophis, an embodiment of chaos so powerful it would eventually destroy the many plains of existence if given free reign. Only, Ra didn't directly fight Apophis; Bast did. Ra empowered her so that she could kill the serpent, and Bast offered the kill to Ra, enhancing his power in turn. Every night Apophis would reform, and the cycle would continue."

"Then a bunch of bullshit happened where Ra got poisoned and dethroned and faded into oblivion. Eventually Sol got the position as the primary sun god. The important part of the story is that Ra warned Bast that without his power, she couldn't beat Apophis. Even the most powerful god would eventually be destroyed by the serpent. Since Apophis can endlessly reform, any god that tries to take him on will ultimately lose. So, with Ra gone, all the gods gathered around the entrance to the River of Night, which is more like a giant bottomless pit than a river, no idea how it got that name. And the gods stand there, watching Apophis rise, knowing that whoever goes down there is dead. Bast pushes her way through the gods, cursing them and calling them cowards, a knife in each hand as she leaps into the pit, dragging Apophis deeper into the abyss – one last fight she knows she can't win."

"But Bast had told her followers what she was about to do beforehand. And they decided to emulate her by going out and killing a bunch of bad people and monsters and such. Her worshippers offered their struggles and their kills to Bast, and it empowered her. Bast killed Apophis that night, and she stays in the abyss so that as soon as the serpent rises she can start the fight again. As a follower of Bast, I carry on that pattern. My worship empowers her so that she can kill Apophis each night."

Machaira paused, giving Kristen a chance to catch up. Kristen nodded slowly, processing.

"So, you give your god power, and not the other way around?" Kristen frowned.

"All gods gain their power from worship," Machaira told her. "That's why so many gods claim to be the source of great authority, to have the answers to the questions of the universe, or something like that. But Bast teaches the same thing that Volo and Mordenkainen and other great wizards teach: the gods didn't create the universe and they don't control it, they only influence it slightly. She's honest about her place in the grand scheme of it all."

"Okay, so why worship Bast?" Kristen asked, voice losing a bit of focus as she tried to wrap her head around what Machaira was saying.

"Bast is the only deity that judges you purely for how hard you try," Machaira asserted. "She doesn't pretend to control the universe. Bad things happen because bad people choose to do bad things. You don't like it? Go out in the world and make life better for other living creatures, preferably but not necessarily with violence. No matter how many times you mess up, no matter how little you accomplish, Bast will only judge your worth based on how hard you try to help others. So long as you always get up, it doesn't matter how many times you fall down. That's kind of her golden rule."

"Yeah, ok, that's kinda cool, but, like, what about rules you have to follow?" Kristen asked. "Like no fap and when to pray and all of that."

"Priests of Bast that live in her temples say daily prayers and burn offerings and all of that," Machaira told her. "But a normal follower does not have to. Bast prefers that you worship her by doing difficult, dangerous things that improve other people's lives. As a war goddess, she encourages her worshippers to kill things and then offer up the kills to her: that's what gives her the most strength. But you could just be a doctor who offers up the stress of surgery to her instead. As far as behavioral taboos, you can do whatever the fuck you want as long as it isn't grossly self-destructive." Kristen stared at her, frowning.

"I don't get it. You can just… do whatever? Have sex with people, drink, anything?" She asked.

"Pretty much," Machaira admitted. "As long as it doesn't hurt innocent people or yourself, it's fine. Ok, well, you're not supposed to hurt cats because they're her sacred animal, but I've never been inclined to hurt cats so not much of a rule." Kristen put her head in her hands.

"This is wild," she whispered. "What kind of powers does she give you?"

"Next to none," Machaira admitted. "Bast almost never interferes in your life except to speak to you if you really need it. Bast saves her energy to fight Apophis. Your struggles are supposed to be your own. You spend your life feeding her, and when you die she speaks for you so you can pass on into the afterlife." Kristen bit her lip, looking sidelong at Machaira.

"So… why would you worship a goddess who does nothing for you now and gets you sent to hell?" She asked quietly. Machaira kept her claws sheathed, but it was a struggle.

"Kristen." She started calmly. "There are many more afterlives than heaven and hell." Machaira took that moment to really appreciate the shock on Kristen's face. Much more of this and the cleric would have a stroke. "Bast sends her followers to the Beast Lands, a wild place filled with forests, rivers, mountains, animals, and monsters. There you have no inhibitions and boundless energy, so you can run and fight monsters and make friends and have wild orgies nonstop, slowly growing in power. Bast sometimes asks her fallen warriors to perform tasks for her, normally killing demonic servants of Yeenoghu and Baphomet or returning to the mortal world in the form of a house cat to guide a living worshipper. If you accept the mission – dick move if you say no but allowed – and you succeed, you return to the Beast Lands more powerful to fight stronger monsters and make friends with more powerful spirits and have wilder orgies."

Machaira stopped talking to let Kristen's brain catch up, legitimately concerned that the cleric's brain would cease functioning. Kristen clearly had almost no exposure to anything that wasn't strictly Helioic, and the bizarreness of these different beliefs was barely comprehensible to her sheltered outlook.

"So, you don't go to heaven or hell?" Kristen tried to clarify.

"Yep. Though, gotta admit, Beast Lands sounds pretty damn good to me." Machaira settled back, much more comfortable now that the sun had warmed her fur.

"You said… you said she can send the dead back to earth… as cats?" Kristen leaned her elbows on her knees, staring at Machaira with big, owlish eyes. "Does that mean all cats are dead people?" Machaira snorted.

"Gods no," she assured the redhead. "Most cats are just cats. If a warrior of Bast spends enough time in the Beast Lands, he or she can travel across realities at will, even challenge minor gods or demon lords. But aside from a few ancient spirits, most of Bast's fallen warriors can only go to earth with the goddess's blessing. They take on the form of a house cat, but if you believe in the goddess than you can see their real form like a spectral mirage over them. Bast sent a dead acolyte to guide me to Aguefort."

This is the part where Fig told her Bast was tight and took a drink. Adaine sat back against her chair, digested her story, and thanked Machaira for telling her. Kristen began to bleed from her nose. Machaira cursed and grabbed for a bandage to stem the flow. Once she noticed the blood, the cleric healed herself and asked Machaira to give her a minute to process. The rogue obliged, dozing on the front steps and crushing the tiny voice in her head that said cuddling would make the nap better. Everyone knew cuddling made naps better, she didn't need her subconscious taunting her for sleeping alone.

"I've been a shitty friend, haven't I?" Machaira snapped to proper wakefulness. Kristen was kinda bent over, head in her hands, staring at her lap. "I… I just did not respect… I'm sorry." Machaira felt her heart melt for the naïve girl. The tabaxi sighed.

"Yeah, I'll be honest: there's times when you annoy the shit out of me," she admitted. "I felt like you didn't care what the rest of us thought. But… I know that's not true. You talk about Helio and pray and encourage us to join you in all of this stuff because you love us. You were touched by a god, and you want to bring everyone closer to this wonderful light you saw. Everything that annoys me comes from a place of love because you're just a big bundle of love and compassion. So, even when I'm frustrated with you, I know that you're doing it because you care. And you care so much, it's hard to stay mad at you."

"Look, Bast isn't the goddess for you," Machaira told her. "She the patron of exiles, outcasts, people who have been beaten down by the world and keep fighting because they don't know what else to do with themselves. You're not the cleric of a war goddess. You're sweet and kind and compassionate. Find some power out there that speaks to that, and you'll find what you're looking for." Kristen turned and smiled at Machaira.

"You're getting a hug," she declared, moving toward her with the slow inevitability of a horror-movie killer.

"Oh, Kristen – Okay," she grunted as Kristen squeezed Machaira with every ounce of force in her body. Machaira hugged her back more reasonably. Adaine was a better hugger, Machaira noted privately. When Kristen pulled away, the two exchanged a smile. The bell rang for second period to end.

"I have to get to class," Machaira told Kristen. "You okay?" Kristen grinned, every bit as sunny as she normally was.

"Yeah, thanks for keeping it real." Machaira chuffed and handed the redhead her history book.

"Whatever you decide to do with yourself, Kristen Applebees," Machaira said, walking backward up the steps. "You'll shine so brightly that everyone's gonna see you."

"**They have great healing here. Hey, let's get this chick a drink." Red Mohawk guy to Fig**

"Uhg, I'm sorry about her. My mom sucks so much." Fig complained, slamming her door behind Machaira. It was their second weekend since starting at Aguefort. The tiefling had made an open invitation to the party to come to her house and jam out that Sunday. Machaira knew Gorgug would come but she wasn't sure who else would show up. The tabaxi had arrived fifteen minutes early, but Fig was happy to see her.

Unfortunately, Fig had neither told her mother that she was having friends over nor Machaira that her mother was a ranger. Machaira hadn't had any direct conflicts with the rangers yet, but they'd searched her camp when she wasn't there. One look at Sandralynn's face, and Machaira could tell Fig's mom knew she was the tabaxi that lived in the woods.

"She's just, like the worst," Fig continued, sitting on her bed and tuning her bass. "She's always trying to tell me how to live my life, and she won't even tell me who my dad is." Fig lit up a cigarette. "And she's always on me about smoking." Machaira internally cringed. "Sorry, kinda went off on a tangent there. We got some time before anyone else is supposed to get here. What do you wanna do?"

"Actually, Fig," Machaira began, putting her hands in her jacket pockets. "I wanted to have some real talk with you." Fig's eyebrows went up, and she dragged her cigarette.

"Okay, yeah, sure, totally," Fig nodded. "What's going on?" Machaira sighed.

"Fig, why are you doing this?" The tiefling frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the cigarettes, the cloves, the, what, three flasks in your jacket," Machaira guessed. Fig stared at her, expression getting a little hard.

"Do you have a problem with me? With what I do?" Fig demanded.

"It's not that I have a problem with it," Machaira countered. "I'm asking you why you do it."

"Uh, I do it because I want to," Fig snapped, really mad now. "Have you ever tried it?' She asked when Machaira opened her mouth to respond.

"Yes, I have," Machaira answered reluctantly.

"I bet you haven't," Fig challenged. "I bet you're just uncomfortable because everyone says not to do it. If you tried, it you'd see – " Machaira walked over to Fig's bookcase, and pulled it away from the wall. She reached down and pulled out her bag of cloves and wrapping paper, turning back to Fig with the bag. "How, how did you know it was back there?"

"Because of course it was," Machaira replied evenly, pretending that she had a stronger brain than she had a nose. She laid out a sheet of paper, poured a pile of clove shavings onto it, rolled it, and sealed the ends. She held up her new clove for Fig to inspect, reached inside the bard's jacket for her lighter, and lit up. Machaira took a long, deep breath of smoke, holding it for a count of twenty before releasing a steady cloud of vapor, bigger than any Fig had yet made. The tiefling stared at her, stunned.

"What, when did…" She stammered. "How the fuck did you get so good at that? It takes me like twice as long to roll mine and they come out all lumpy and uneven." Machaira took another hit from the clove. Gods, it had been so fucking long since she smoked one. She had almost forgotten how much she hated herself for ever doing these.

"Like I said, I used to smoke," Machaira repeated. "Cigarettes, cloves, weed, snuff, even dragon spice." Fig's eyes bulged.

"You did dragon spice?" She grinned. "Dude, that is so fucking met – "

"It really isn't," Machaira told her harshly, pinching the end of her clove to extinguish it. "You know why I did it? Because my parents hated it. And my parents told me I was an embarrassment, a statement they stand by to this day." Fig shrank back, a little intimidated. Machaira flicked her clove into the trash. "I was thirteen doing dragon spice off a thirty-year-old orc. I nearly destroyed my life." Machaira stalked over to the window, mostly to put some distance between herself and Fig. Out of all her mistakes, drug use was the easiest to talk about, especially to Fig, but it still made her feel like shit. Machaira turned and leaned against the wall to glare at Fig.

"It was bad, okay. And I didn't do any of it because I wanted to. I did it because I was angry and bitter and I wanted to 'be my own person'. What that really meant was that I was lashing out against the way I had been raised." Machaira took a deep breath, lips and tongue curling to try and drive the taste of clove out of her mouth.

"You're a smart girl, Fig. You know this stuff is bad for you. As a tiefling, you have an innate resistance to most of the negative side effects." Fig grinned. Machaira probably shouldn't have mentioned that. "But it's just resistance, not immunity. Eventually this stuff will catch up with you." Machaira walked back over and sat next to Fig on the bed.

"I'm not saying you have to stop," the tabaxi clarified. "I'm just saying think about what it is you really want. If this is what you want to do," Machaira held up her cigarettes. "For yourself and not just because it pisses off your parents and makes you look cool, then do it." She handed the pack to Fig. "I'm your friend, not your mom. I just want to make sure you've really thought this through, okay? Whatever you decide, I'm gonna support you." Fig took her cigarettes from Machaira and smiled at her.

"That was some real talk," the tiefling admitted. She leaned over and hugged Machaira. "You're like, not the mom of the party, but like the really cool older cousin that looks out for everyone." Machaira snorted, hugging her back.

"I am not cool," she asserted. "Especially next to the most bad ass bard to ever join Prayer Chain." Fig cackled, pulling away.

"Is this why you came over?" Fig asked.

"This is why I came early," Machaira admitted. "But I have never, ever been able to play a musical instrument. Terrible sense of rhythm. Thought you might get a kick out of watching me _cat-_erwaul." Fig snickered.

"The worse the pun, the better the pun," the other girl declared paradoxically. There was a thump on the door downstairs. "Unless there's an owlbear at the door, that's probably Gorgug. Kristen also texted that she'd be over in a few." The tiefling smirked. "Let's make some music."

"**You can feel things that maybe you didn't let yourself feel before" – Tracker's "subtle" flirting**

Adaine shivered in her bed. Tomorrow after school they were supposed to go to the Black Pit to meet Johnny's mysterious contact. She'd tried to research the Black Pit to prepare for tomorrow. Aside from band advertisements, there was little mention of it online. A few reviewers called it dirty and unsafe. It looked like a large, noisy place with lots of adults drinking and playing uncomfortably loud music. Adaine could easily see herself getting separated from her friends among the giant crowds in the website photos.

Angwyn Abernant had burst into the room after fifteen minutes of investigation. He had been monitoring her computer and demanded to know just what she thought she was doing. Adaine knew her parents supervised her online activity, but she didn't think they watched her in real time. Adaine tried to explain that it was for a quest, but her father was furious. He thought she was lying to go buy drugs and stay out late again. Adaine told him that she stayed out late for school because her friends helped her study. Again, her father was skeptical.

Arianwyn came in to ask about the commotion, which was almost silly since neither Abernant had raised their voice yet. They never did. Adaine tried to explain the situation again, but her father talked over her to relate his original suspicions to her mother. Then her mother began to chastise her, and Adaine tried to explain a third time. By now Adaine's chest had constricted so tightly that it was a struggle just to force the words out. Then Aelwyn entered the picture and the situation devolved further. In the end her parents had been even further disappointed in their younger daughter, Aelwyn had left with a coy smile, and Adaine once more had been put in her place as a second class Abernant.

Adaine had just managed to force back her panic attack earlier, but she could still feel it looming in the back of her mind, shortening her breath and threatening to overwhelm her. This time tomorrow there would almost certainly be a battle. Two people had died their first fight. Machaira and Adaine had both nearly died their second. Would anyone actually die tomorrow? The thought hounded her. Adaine agonized over her crystal before another shiver ran through her body, a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature of the house. She hit the call button before she lost the last of her resolve.

The crystal rang for a while. Adaine wondered if she was asleep. The voice mail had just begun to play and Adaine was debating whether or not she should leave a message when a voice picked up.

"What?" Adaine kept her volume low, but she could hear the aggression, the frustration in Machaira's tone. Adaine flinched even though she was nowhere near her. She'd never had that directed at her before.

"I, I'm so-sorry," she stammered, voice disgustingly meek. "It's not important, I, it, can wait."

"No, no, I'm sorry." Machaira sighed on the other side. Something in the background screeched horribly. A faint flapping sound echoed on the other end.

"Are you ok?" Adaine asked, sitting up and reaching for her light.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Machair muttered. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. That wasn't cool of me. I was… not expecting a call."

"I, I can wait," Adaine mumbled, staring at her lap. Of course, Machaira had her own things to do. She couldn't _always_ be there when Adaine needed her. Goosebumps rose on her arms and a sense of loneliness in her soul.

"It's fine," Machaira repeated. Then again, more gently. "It's fine. You wouldn't have called unless it was important. Talk to me." Adaine tried to stutter another apologetic backtrack, but Machaira swept over her. "Adaine, it's ok. You didn't… you didn't interrupt anything I can't get back to later. You are my priority. Promise." Adaine tried to take control of her breathing, taking huge, almost sobs of air to regain control over her voice. She tried to speak but a faint, mousy whisper came out instead.

"Adaine." Machaira put a soft, firm emphasis on her name, as if it represented more than an annoying elf who couldn't take care of herself. "I've got you. Talk to me." And she did. Adaine told Machaira the whole incident. The tabaxi did not interrupt, only speaking when Adaine had taken a pause to let her know she was still there. Machaira's words had lost their growl, lightened to something soothing and calm, quietly encouraging her to speak her mind. Even when Adaine started looping back into old complaints about feeling ignored and disregarded, her friend had nothing but sympathy and the occasional joke at her family's expense.

She could hear boots crunching on dirt and pine needles as she talked. At some point the background noise changed to a growl and the rustle of clothes. When asked, Machaira only said that she was sitting outside her room and that she was tired. She would go to sleep soon, she promised. The tabaxi told her not to dwell on what might happen, and instead to focus on what they could do better this time.

"Remember, we did almost die, but that's the life of an adventurer," Machaira reminded her. "What we're doing now, it's important, worth the risks. And you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"You're not scared?" she inquired.

"I'm scared every day," Machaira responded. "But I can't let that stop me." Adaine wondered what that was like, to brush aside your fears so thoroughly no one could see them, to stand in the face of death bold as brass. "It's perfectly reasonable to be afraid of a fight. But you've been in fights before. And you've improved since then. You KNOW now that you can survive and come out on top."

"Does it get easier?" Adaine asked. "The more you fight, does it get easier to push through the fear?" Even after three weeks she still didn't know much about Machaira's life, but she did know the tabaxi had more combat experience than any of them. _Have you killed people before? Yes_.

"Yes, it does." Machaira told her. "But I'm still afraid when it looms ahead, inescapable and deadly." The tabaxi was honest about her emotions. She always was. "But remember, I like fighting. Once the battle starts, it's so much easier to deal with. The waiting is worse. And it's much easier when I'm fighting for someone else. I'm way more afraid for you than I am for myself."

"Oh yeah, what happened to 'you got this Adaine, you're stronger than you give yourself credit for'?" She countered.

"I don't have to be afraid for my own safety because I've got you watching my back," the tabaxi answered promptly, voice warm with confidence and affection. Adaine was very glad no one could see her blush. "Get some sleep." Machaira advised. "Tomorrow everything will look better, I promise."

"You promise? Are you trying to tell a diviner what the future holds?" Adaine teased.

"Yep." Adaine grinned instinctively. Coming from Machaira, that one syllable always meant something awesome and unexpected. Adaine giggled her goodnight and hung up, feeling significantly more excited for tomorrow. When she got off the bus the next day, however, Machaira wasn't at the bus stop. Adaine stood on her toes, looking up and down the sidewalk, but the tabaxi was hard to miss in the Aguefort crowds.

"Hey." Adaine turned to see Machaira jogging over from across the street in the opposite direction she usually came from. "Sorry, misjudged the time a bit." She apologized, handing a white Styrofoam cup a foot and a half high to Adaine, straw already in place.

"What's this?" She asked, taking the proffered beverage. The cup was surprisingly heavy and cold in her hand.

"Sounded like you had a rough night, so I got you a good-morning shake at Basrar's," Machaira answered, scooping up Adaine's orb. Adaine stared at her friend, grinning so hard her face hurt as she sucked up a mouthful of rich chocolate shake.

"You are the absolute best friend ever," she said with passion, trying to slurp milkshake through the giant plastic straw. The dairy treat was still mostly solid and did not want to cooperate. Machaira chuffed, handing her a plastic spoon.

"It's nothing," she assured the elf, golden eyes glowing happily. "I just wanted you to start the day on a good note." Adaine smiled and gave her friend a hug. After a small start of surprise, Machaira reciprocated, wrapping strong arms carefully around her shoulders and back. But when Adaine pulled away, she noticed that, as happy as Machaira was to see her, something was off. Her eyes seemed dull, worried.

"What's wrong?" Adaine had learned that best way to address Machaira was always directly.

"What do you mean?" The rogue asked, ears flattening and tail snapping low over the sidewalk. She was never hard to read.

"Something's wrong," Adaine stated. "There's something bothering you." Machaira flinched slightly, shoulders rolling in. Adaine hated seeing her friend do that. She'd charge the entire bloodrush team if Adaine asked her to, but the second the elf touched on a personal topic she acted like someone was about to hit her. Scratch that, Machaira was much more comfortable with people physically attacking her than she was talking about her problems.

"It's, its' nothing," Machaira muttered. Adaine frowned at her.

"You can talk to me too, you know," she reminded Machaira. Adaine heard her accusatory tone from outside herself and winced. "I'm your friend; I want to help." Adaine finished more gently.

"I just, I don't want you to be, uh," Machaira cringed as she stammered. God, their whole party spoke like they had speech impediments.

"Is this about last night?" Machaira's face said a guilty yes. "What were you doing when I called you?" The tabaxi shrank inward further, staring at her boots.

"I, it's not your fault, you had no way of knowing. But last night, when you called, you kinda… scared away my dinner." Machaira tucked the end of her muzzle into her jacket collar. It took Adaine a second to register her sentence.

"Oh… oh," the wizard shifted her weight from foot to foot. "So, you were, uh – "

"Hunting." Machaira said into her jacket, hands stuffed in her pockets. Adaine knew her friend ate what she killed, but it wasn't until just now that she realized Machaira never ate lunch unless she had brought jerky from home. Machaira told her that money was tight; she couldn't afford the extra fee for school lunch when it so often failed to meet her carnivorous diet.

"So, I, that was – "

"It's fine," Machaira assured her, shuffling back a step. "I just have to pick up food tonight. I can go to the store if I need to." Just then, Adaine felt even shittier than she had last night. The cup in her hands was so much heavier. No wonder her friend had been upset. It's a wonder that she calmed down so quickly.

"I'm sorry," Adaine told her. Machaira was already shaking her head.

"You had no way of knowing. Besides, you were my priority then, and you're still my priority now." As truly embarrassed as the rogue seemed to be, Adaine knew she was telling the truth. She knew, and that made the little rumble from Machaira's belly so much worse to hear. When Machaira realized that she'd heard, her tail fully entwined around her leg.

"Share." Adaine said, holding out her milkshake. There was no way she was going to stand there and drink this when she'd cost her friend dinner over a freak out.

"No, Adaine, I got that for you," Machaira protested.

"And I want to share," she said, taking a big step up to the tabaxi and holding out her milkshake in a way that said sharing was mandatory. "I don't want you to be hungry all day." Machaira didn't reach out for it. "I don't think any less of you for hunting." She promised. "We've talked about this. I get it, I really do." And Adaine thought she did. Deep down, she thought Machaira felt trapped around other humanoids, expected to display only half of who she was. The elf suspected hunting was a healthy way to let the predator in her out without anyone around to shame her. Money was just the excuse.

Machaira met her stare for a count of twelve. She hesitantly reached out and took the cup from Adaine. She took a long, deep sip and handed it back to her. Since more than two-thirds of its contents remained, Machaira knew her friend was restraining herself. The two walked toward the school, Machaira muttering apologies and Adaine sweeping them aside as unnecessary.

True to form, the tabaxi did not eat lunch, and Adaine found nothing in the salad, beans, and creamed corn that she could eat anyway. To her surprise Machaira could eat potatoes, though tater tots were not on the menu that day. So Adaine bought a protein bar from the vending machine on her way to her afternoon studies only to question if Machaira could even eat it. She wondered what it was like to be locked into such a restrictive diet. The rogue hadn't told Kristen, but the cleric's cornbread had indeed made her painfully sick to the point that Adaine had been a little afraid for her.

The wizard settled at their usual table on the second floor, giving Lindsey Longwater the middle finger as she passed. The sorcerer hadn't tried to get Adaine back for her attack, but she definitely carried a grudge. Bitch. When Machaira came up for sixth period, she looked awful. Dark eye-bags were visible under her facial fur. She was panting lightly, unusual in and of itself, and her tail dragged behind her, flicking up off the ground for only a few seconds at a time. When Adaine handed her the bar, Machaira gave her a tired smile and thanked her before wolfing it down. It was clear that the tabaxi did not enjoy it but was too hungry to care. Machaira started to take out a book, and Adaine gently covered the rogue's hand with her own, quietly suggesting she take a nap instead. Machaira protested only weakly before laying her head on her arms and falling asleep in a patch on sun on the table. Adaine pursed her lips in concern.

She knew there was something, or several somethings, wrong in Machaira's life that her friend wasn't telling her. It hadn't taken long to notice that Machaira only owned three pairs of pants, all heavily patched and worn. She knew her friend was the only person in the group who worked a part time job and the only one who never had spending money. Even Riz's single mother could afford new school books. The tabaxi didn't have internet and lived too far into the woods to have access to a car. When they went out, her parents were never an issue, not even worth a call or text.

More concerning was that whenever Machaira did talk about her past, her parents never appeared in the narrative except as a rare passing insult. Adaine could not recall her ever mentioning an adult in any kind of guardian position. Her jacket was handmade, her food acquired through hunting. Adaine had no idea what was up with this girl's home life, but she was worried.

Earlier that week Machaira had mentioned that their party was like a bunch of parts that came together to form one complete person. Fabian was the body, driving the rest of them forward. Adaine was their brain, making the smart decisions and gathering information. Riz was their will, keeping them on track. Fig was their soul, and Kristen their conscience. Gorgug was their instinct, a sweetheart who tore down anything that threatened the rest of them and resumed his peaceful existence when the danger passed. Machaira had joked that she was the appendix. But looking down at her friend, Adaine knew she was their heart.

Adaine had many words to describe Machaira but the one that best fit her was warm. Her family was rigid, cold, and impersonal, concerned with dogmatic matters that left Adaine numb and wanting. Machaira brightened her day, like stepping out of the cold library and into the sunlight. The tabaxi was rough, wild, and almost perfectly earnest. No matter what Machaira's mood, that warmth burned in her eyes for everyone to see. When she was playful they glowed like embers. When she was annoyed, her eyes simmered like a coal bed. During a fight they blazed, threatening to devour anything and everything that dared stand against her friends.

When Adaine was at her worst and weakest, Machaira was at her warmest, fires mellowing to sunbeams that heated her heart, mind, and soul. Machaira was ferocious and fiery. She was warm and loving. She looked at Adaine and saw something wonderful in her. The tabaxi had stepped into her world and breathed vitality into it. Adaine would be happy to bask in her warmth forever. She knew her relationship with Machaira was strongest, but the others in their party had all found comfort in her warmth at some point.

But sometimes her fire was doused, her light dimmed. Adaine's best friend never lied, but she often chose her words carefully, leaving Adaine wondering exactly what she meant upon reflection. Others could hurt her, but Machaira, more than anything, was afraid of pushing Adaine or the others away. She was, in this regard, horribly self-conscious. Adaine had seen a lot of terrible things since the school year began. The worst was watching Machaira's passion and confidence wither, her heat receding before shame and uncertainty. She was never cold, but during these moments her warmth was lost, and Adaine could not bear to watch something so beautiful flicker out. And she didn't know how to fix the problem because she wasn't sure what it was.

The wizard studied her friend's sleeping face. When Machaira was deeply embarrassed she would attempt to hide her fangs, body shrinking inward with shame. Adaine wondered if it had anything to do with her scars. The tabaxi had not yet volunteered any new information, and for once Adaine agreed with the rest of the party: the incident with Gorgug's parents was best left alone for now. Adaine knew her friend would tell her eventually, but in the meantime…

Her fingers twitched watching the sleeping rogue. Adaine wanted, so very, very badly, to touch her behind the ears. She had pet Machaira's tail a few times, and she was amazed at how much it eased her anxiety. The world seemed to boil away to her and Machaira: no terrible family, no complex social hierarchy, nothing but her and her best friend. What's more, Machaira not only enjoyed being petted but seemed almost desperate for the affection. She did her best to hide it, but those golden eyes revealed everything. The tabaxi loved being pet, maybe the only time she was completely relaxed. And the fur of her mane was so much longer and thicker. It nearly shone in the sunlight, fluffy and silky from all the care Machaira took to keep it soft. Adaine could probably hide her hand inside it. But she wasn't stupid. She knew those scars were not limited to old gouges in the rogue's skull; they cut deeper, to some part of her that was terrified of things Adaine could not imagine. What on earth hurt her like this? What could leave such an impression on Machaira, who barely reacted upon being shot and crushed under a car?

God, Machaira and touch was a complicated topic. The tabaxi was always giving little casual touches on the arm or shoulder but never anything creepy or constraining. She was very careful to keep physical contact platonic and respectful, rarely lingering for longer than a second. Machaira was also weird about being touched. She always tensed up when someone went to hug her or clap her on the back and was quick to pull back. The rogue had never so much as undone a jacket button around her friends, making it very clear that she liked a barrier between her body and other people. She was more at ease around Adaine, though the high elf never pushed her too far. The notable exception was when Adaine had a panic attack.

Machaira's judgement in handling Adaine's episodes was phenomenal. The tabaxi always made her feel safe and grounded and special. Her family treated her attacks as an embarrassment. Machaira never even seemed inconvenienced. She was always so confident that Adaine was going to be okay that the high elf would believe her, as if Machaira was giving Adaine some of her strength so Adaine could keep moving forward.

Her attitude, her affection, even her expressions were so alien to the elf, and she found herself craving all of it, wanting her warmth, especially since her big attack last week. Adaine hadn't realized until afterward how long it had been since she'd been held and how superb a feeling it was. She wanted to have that tenderness again. She wanted to support Machaira when she was scared or insecure, too. She wanted all of that, but Machaira didn't try to hold her again, so Adaine didn't say anything. The situation felt so very, very complicated and confusing and frustrating.

Machaira shuffled in her sleep, shifting her head so that her muzzle lay horizontal over the table, a white knife wound gleaming innocently in the sunlight. Adaine smiled. When the bell rang and Machaira stayed asleep, Adaine texted the others to say that she and Machaira would meet up with them in an hour. The wizard moved to sit next to her friend and finish her work, letting the tabaxi's deep, even breathing calm her anxiety. Adaine lightly patted her shoulder. Machaira settled deeper onto her arms. Maybe she was overthinking this. Machaira would talk when she was ready. Adaine just had to be there for her when she was. Until then she should just focus on being a good friend and doing well in school.

Oh, and solving the mystery of girls being kidnapped and sealed inside of palimpsests. Probably going to be a major theme for the rest of the night at least.


	8. Brawl at the Zombie Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most disjointed fight of the campaign takes a dark turn as old wounds reopen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, any thoughts on this work are appreciated. This will be the last Machaira chapter for awhile. Since this fight is so separated, most of the episode didn't make the cut. Things are going to get worse before they get better.
> 
> Also, considering the limited number of combatants and the disorganized nature of the fight as a whole, the standard turn-based structure of a D&D battle has been put aside for this scene.

**Chapter 6: Brawl at the Zombie Bar (+ Pixie and the Most Pit prelude)**

Machaira already didn't like the Black Pit. The nightclub had taken over an abandoned brick warehouse in the seedier part of downtown across the River Marigold. The rapid thump of rave music already felt unpleasant in her ears, an assault on her senses. The party stood a decent bit to the side of a line of people waiting to get in behind a ratty velvet rope. A huge, rugged barbarian with a shaggy beard stood in front of the door, longsword over his back and short sword at his hip. Machaira had spent more time in dive bars than she liked, and this place reeked like any number of those shitholes. The tabaxi knew this place would aggravate and put her on edge until the fighting started, but knowing that made it a lot harder to be intimidated. Going into a loud room full of violent, drunk adults to hunt down some bastard – this was familiar territory. Machaira kept her body relaxed for the benefit of both the bouncer and her party

Fig was well acquainted with the club, and Kristen, oddly enough, had come here before to talk to victims of sex trafficking. The notion of talking to someone about something you had no experience with riled Machaira's vicious sarcasm streak, but she refrained, knowing the cleric truly wanted to help people. And sometimes talking worked wonders. Riz had grit his teeth and set about focusing on the mission, happy to have something proactive to do and more familiar with this part of the city than most of them. Gorgug and Fabian were both nervous, constantly pawing around their weapons. Gorgug's trepidation was more obvious while Fabian had his false bravado face on, which was a lot like his normal face but with more arched eyebrows.

Adaine was terrified. She was standing stiff, hands clasped at her waist, trying to keep her face blank; but her eyes were wide with distress. She had started to shake for the third time and for the third time stopped with visible concentration. The rogue could hear Adaine's short, shallow breathing already. Her fear scent wafted around Machaira, so sharp she almost coughed. Even without smell the others were picking up on her fear and becoming edgier as a result. None of them were openly acknowledging it, and the stress of masquerading as unruffled made their fear worse.

Machaira casually sidled over to Adaine, leaning back a bit with her hands in her jacket pockets. She wrapped her tail around Adaine's waist, and the elf immediately grabbed hold, fingers digging into her fur a bit too tight. Soon, Machaira needed to talk to Adaine about how she handled her tail. A little rough treatment on her coat felt great (a sentiment she shared less innocently during her heat cycle), but at a certain point the wizard was just pulling her tail-fur. For the moment the tabaxi bore it stoically, knowing her friend would accommodate her later with profuse apologizing. Adaine scooted right up next to Machaira and shot her a grateful look but thankfully didn't pet her. Machaira wasn't one hundred percent sure she wanted the others to see that; she didn't fully trust Fig or Kristen to keep their hands to themselves. She also didn't want to display any kind of domesticity here.

After a quick scout about, Riz reported that the Black Pit only had the one entrance and no side alleys to impersonate Johnny Spells in. Agreeing that the best idea was to scope the inside and text the mystery number, the party moved to get in line.

"No, no, no," Fabian said imperiously, heading straight for the bouncer.

"You're gonna get us thrown out," Riz predicted. The bouncer was leaning back against the wall, scratching the head of an enormous wolf-dog almost twice the size of an actual dire wolf. The dog was quietly chewing on a bone, every bit as laid back as the bouncer. Machaira was hungry enough to consider how the dog would taste but not hungry enough to be obvious about it.

"Hey brother, how's it going man, how you doing?" The bouncer greeter Fabian, his gravelly voice friendly in the way that said he would make a great drinking buddy until the bar fight started.

"I'm well, Fabian Seacaster, son of Bill Seacaster," Fabian introduced. Machaira groaned, flexing her claws in her pockets. The bouncer kinda rolled his eyes a bit.

"Okay, man." He pulled up a list of names.

"We're probably not on there," Fabian admitted. "How much for me and my friends to go inside?" Machaira wondered how someone so rich knew so little of how to bribe. The bouncer put his list away.

"How much for you and your friends to go inside?" He repeated dangerously. "I don't know dude, how much for you to eat my crusty, hairy asshole out here in the middle fucking street?" His head bobbed to the side on each adjective, building up steam. "You rich motherfuckers coming down here, fucking – how old are you?"

"Does it matter?' Fabian blustered.

"Yeah, legally," the bouncer confirmed, one hand casually drifting toward his long sword.

"Twenty-three," Fabian lied.

"You're twenty-three years old?" The bouncer pressed, looming up and raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm twenty-three years old," Fabian confirmed.

"You're twenty-three years old?"

"Yes, I'm twenty-three years old." Fabian's indignity at having to repeat himself helped mask his lie. The bouncer bought it but didn't seem to think much more of Fabian for it.

"Jesus, you look like a fucking baby. Dude, you need some living done, you know what I mean? You need to go out there and get some living done, dude."

"That's what we're trying to do tonight," Fig countered, sliding around and in front of Fabian.

"Yeah, exactly," Fabian muttered, clearly offended by the bouncer's claim.

"Well, okay, get in the fuckin' line, alright," the bouncer told them, waving a meaty hand at the people who were waiting like they were supposed to. "You wanna go in, you get in the fuckin' line."

"Dude, we're just, honestly, honestly," Fig began, weaving her shoulders up and down and giving the bouncer a serious but amiable look. "He's got a lot of, fuck, I'm friends with him – he's a rich idiot, and I'm trying to get you a little something to keep your pocket warm." The bard whispered the last part, holding a hand around the side of her mouth for effect. Fig was so comfortable here that her incorrigible charm drew the eyes of everyone around them. Machaira sheathed her claws, content to sit quiet and let Fig do what she did best: talk.

"Look, I appreciate it, alright," the bouncer confessed, leaning back again and taking his hand off his weapon. "Look, and these guys," he gestured to the club. "I don't get paid dick."

"I know, I'm a bouncer, too," Fig informed him. Fig, 5'8", 105lbs Fig, was so confident that the bouncer actually believed her. As his mouth formed an **O**, the entire party had to cough and bite their knuckles to keep from laughing.

"Oh shit, you're a bouncer too? Wait, you don't bounce here, do you?" He pointed at the doormat for clarity.

"Nah, I, uh, bounce at, um, or bounce with, uh, I bounce at, uh, the Doom Fort," Fig lied, snapping her finger as she remembered where she worked.

"Oh, you're here from the Doom Fort? Oh, you guys are just visiting!" The bouncer lost all aggression, erroneously realizing that they were just tourists.

"Yeah, that's right," Fig assured him.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to give you a fuckin' hard time dude," the bouncer apologized to Fabian.

"Oh, okay, thanks," Fabian accepted calmly.

"Dude, Elmville, things work a little differently," the bouncer told him. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Ah, okay, thank you," Fabian nodded, pretending to have learned a lesson.

"Ah, you get it," the bouncer waved a hand at him, scratching the wolf dog again. Machaira felt the dog watching her but refused to meet its eyes, knowing it would sense her predatory desires and start barking.

"I bounce at a metal bar," Fig added impulsively.

"Rad, you know fuckin' Pete?" The bouncer asked. Shit.

"No, I don't know him." Fig frowned.

"You don't know Pete?" The bouncer's eyebrows rose.

"Did Pete say that he works there?" Fig asked.

"Yeah, Pete told me that he worked there."

"Dude, I don't, Pete does not work there," Fig shook her head, trying to pass off her mangled smile as a confused grimace. The bouncer clapped his hands against his thighs, rolling his eyes hugely.

"Dude, he's fucking full of shit, dude," the bouncer griped.

"That's fucking humiliating," Fig agreed. The entire party struggled not to laugh. Machaira felt her jacket vibrating over her body as she suppressed her chuckles.

"I'm here to look for people who are caught in sex trafficking," Kristen informed the bouncer, giving him a conspiratorial slow nod as she doodled a black dot on her hand. Machaira could admit when she was wrong, and she had been very wrong to assume that Fig would be the party's biggest liability on their first day. The bouncer stared at her for a solid ten seconds but thankfully decided not to ignore the redhead.

"Alright, you guys head on in." The bouncer clapped and waved them forward as the party laughed. "You guys all head on in. You guys just head on in."

"Does anybody else…?" Kristen offered the marker to the others who unanimously declined.

"No, I'm good, I'm good," Fig promised, hands up.

"You have to go to the depths of the depths to find them – " Kristen began.

"Hey, brother," the bouncer interrupted, gesturing to Fabian. "Help me out on your way in, what do you say?" Fabian tilted his head and arched an eyebrow.

"Seventy-five?" He inquired, pulling out a pouch with more money in it than Machaira had made in the past three years of her life. The group stared between Fabian and the bouncer, who had simply frozen with a grin that had expected a much smaller number.

"Yeah, that'll do it," he confirmed. Kristen and Fig snickered.

"That's an insane amount of money," Riz hissed under his breath.

"You would just give, you don't even like that guy," Gorgug muttered.

"That would like, pay my rent for so long," Riz moaned. "Can you just buy my apartment?"

"Is that your money?" Kristen asked. Machaira was likewise flabbergasted, more so when it was revealed that Fabian had more than that in his coin purse. How much fucking money could this guy afford to burn? The bouncer could barely fit the coins into his own bag. A good handful had to go into his pockets. He turned to Fig with genuine relief, the kind that comes from living under a blade for so long you had forgotten what it felt like to breathe freely.

"Sister, you just saved my fucking ass. Let me tell you something."

"You know what, one bouncer to another…" Fig shook her head with a shit-eating grin. The bouncer scratched his dog on the head.

"Rover, Rover, we're taking you to the vet, buddy!" He told the dog, happiness softening his voice. Machaira _awwww'd_ with the rest of the party, her heart going out to the bouncer and his companion. The dog became much less appetizing as it nuzzled the giant hand scratching it.

"Why are we aw'ing?" Fabian questioned, hands up in the air. "I paid for that dog to go to the vet. It's a good thing."

"Yeah, we were aw'ing, it's a good aw," Gorgug said. Adaine briefly fell against Machaira's side, nerves momentarily forgotten in the sweet moment. Fig, misty-eyed, hand over her heart, winked at the dog. Rover was surrounded with a haze of golden dust. The bouncer grinned.

"No, no," Kristen bemoaned. "This is how we were before the corn episode, and the corn babies kicked our ass." Fabian muttered an agreement. Rover tried to bite the bardic inspiration, tail wagging happily. Machaira felt bad for wanting to eat him.

"If he has an episode, I need to know he's got an extra something." Fig asserted as they entered the building, passing by a coat check in the entrance way. The tabaxi shot the man behind the counter a death glare when he held out a hand for her jacket.

"Remember Adaine used all her spells before we got into combat?" Kristen asked.

"That's his weapon – " Fig began.

"And I don't regret it," Adaine declared firmly, twinkle in her eye. There was a savage part of Machaira that loved seeing how vindictive she was toward her sister.

"I will not regret this," Fig stated.

"Worth it?" Gorgug asked Adaine. The wizard nodded with conviction. Machaira shoulder bumped her, smiling.

"Two people died," Fabian reminded them. Nobody responded as they passed a merch table by the coat check, lingering to check out the swag. T-shirts, CD's, and mix tapes were stamped with the image of an undead DJ. Fig instantly started ranting about how no one made music anymore. They continued into the club proper. The first room was a whiskey bar/pool room, dimly lit and completely at odds with the heart-pounding beats coming from deeper in the club.

The others slowed their pace, looking around the room. Machaira could see that they were just now aware that there were adults here, drinking and shooting them harsh looks. Adaine's fear scent began to creep back over her, discernible from the fear scents of the others. Machaira, who had given head to a mobster before learning what she needed and subsequently killing him in a bar quite similar to this three years ago, was more disgusted with herself than afraid.

The next room had a dark blue light up sign that read 'Moon Room'. A band called the 'Screwy Louis' was playing on a small stage, about the right size for karaoke. The whole band had their hair styled in mohawks and were mid-way through a heavy metal song that sounded like steel beams banging around in a cement mixer. The band was screaming and shaking. Adaine frowned and put her fingers in her ears, arms drawing in. Machaira let her hand ghost over her friend's shoulder blade. A collection of humans, half-elves, and half-orcs danced or sat at booths. All present were drinking.

Further inward was a giant room where a rail thin DJ worked a huge mosh pit, humanoids of every variety yelling and hitting each other. The floor was so badly stained that it was impossible to determine what was piss, alcohol, blood, vomit, or actual paint marks. Dim neon lights flashed twenty different colors. A scattering of moshers panted over their shots at a collection of high-top tables on the other side of the room, replenishing their alcohol levels before they went back to the dance floor.

A few especially seedy characters sat at VIP booths along the back wall. One man turned dead eyes on their party. Machaira returned her own flat-eyed stare. The VIP was apparently a serious enough threat to recognize a practiced killer because he made a small motion with his head and settled back without incident, watching the room at large instead of the scantily dressed tiefling at his side. Every beat of the music physically hurt her, but she knew this environment. Machaira remained relaxed, letting her gaze carefully roam the rave.

Fig bit her lip, grinned, and dashed into the melee. Somehow Machaira wasn't surprised.

"No, Fig," Kristen protested. As the party moved closer to the crowd, Adaine pressed herself against Machaira. Machaira knew better than to smile at her; she needed to maintain her deadly calm to ensure that only idiots would approach them. But she slipped an arm around the wizard's shoulders and tightened her tail around Adaine's waist. The high elf latched onto her tail with one hand, briefly pulling her fur before she replaced her finger in her ear. Machaira could smell her panic begin and gently drew her close.

"You got this," she rumbled, so low that her voice would not be obscured by the music. Adaine took a deep breath. Fig jumped into the mosh pit and was immediately punched in the face by a big half-elf with a red Mohawk and a leather jacket covered in patches. When he recognized that there was something at the other end of his fist, the half-elf looked down at Fig and grinned. Machaira knew that expression and fought to keep herself from growling.

"Oh, hell yeah, I haven't seen you here before. What's your deal?" The Mohawk guy asked, looking the tiefling up and down.

"I'm a bouncer from Doom Fort, and you just fucking punched me." To her credit, Fig did not look the least bit intimidated as she touched her bruise. Machaira's attention flickered as an outlying smell reached her nostrils: decay. The atmosphere here was nearly overloading her senses, but she knew what scents belonged. Rotting flesh wasn't one of them. She swiveled to a cluster of people shuffling about at the edge of the room. One turned to face her, and Machaira knew from his glassy gaze that he wasn't alive. She didn't react save to snort and look away, but the knowledge that this was a hangout for the local undead had her more alert.

She followed her friend to the far left of the mosh room where a door in the near-side wall led to a long U-shaped bar. This room didn't have a band but it did have a more transient, faster tempo emulating from disguised speakers. This was the room for people looking to hook up, where the dim lighting and primary sound was more stimulating than harsh. Sure enough, men and women were sidling up to each other at the bar or making out at side tables, everyone after the same thing. Fabian was beginning to look a little overwhelmed. Adaine's hyperventilation was more audible here.

"Name's Marrow, how's it going?" Fig's mosh buddy asked as he bought her a drink.

"It's good," Fig shrugged, starting to look uncomfortable. She clearly knew why he'd come to this room for the drink. Gorgug had decided to stay close to Fig, like a giant green shadow. Kristen stared about the room with blissful ignorance, tapping her black dot at anyone who was flirting or kissing. Adaine was trembling, overwhelmed by everything in the Black Pit and constantly buffeted by horny couples pushing through the narrow pass alongside the bar. She practically clung to Machaira's arm and tail. The tabaxi gave her shoulder a squeeze

"Hey, like the school girl get up," a voice hissed. Adaine jumped next to Machaira. A lizardman sat at a nearby booth, grinning widely to display his serrated Komodo Dragon teeth. A lean drow with a shaved head and ponytail smirked next to him, and a Halfling in a black button down with the sleeves rolled up leered across the table.

"Why don't you come take a seat, little elf?" The lizardman asked, silk shirt unbuttoned over his scaly chest, forked tongue darting out to lick the air between them. "Let us teach you a thing or two? You can even bring your kitty with you." Adaine pressed closer to Machaira. Machaira stepped away from her, sauntering toward the lizard man, but left her tail tip touching Adaine's hand. The wizard grabbed it, and Machaira made another mental note to talk to Adaine about that once she had calmed down. Machaira stepped up and placed her palm on the scaly chest. She slowly pushed her fingertips above the plain of his pectorals, over the curve of his collarbone, rising up his neck. The lizardman grinned, reaching out for her jacket.

His hand froze halfway to her, slit pupils dilating as she unsheathed her claws against his throat, twisting her hand over and curling it back toward her. The lizardman was forced to turn his head up and face her, her claw tips pressed against his scales so that the beat of his pulse made his neck conform around the sharpened points.

"I'll play with you, if you want, little reptile." Machaira's voice was a smooth union of light, seductive playfulness and feline snarl. "But you and your friends might lose your tails." She flexed her claws tighter, gripping his jugular through his scales. The drow reached for his short sword. "Aw, no need for toys." She promised, eyes holding the lizardman's gaze. "I prefer to keep my fun more… visceral."

The lizardman and his friends were legitimately bad guys. But they were just smart enough to recognize that Machaira was a different league of bad news. Forced to meet her eyes, the lizardman knew that she would kill him right then and there. It was the difference between a thug and a season predator. He gave her a look of silent, angry submission. She slowly took her hand away, baring teeth three times the size of his own in a savage mockery of a smile before turning on heel and high stepping away.

"Better luck next time boys," Machaira called over her shoulder, voice a sultry growl as she waved without looking back, the claw on her middle finger unsheathed. She prowled back to a stunned Adaine, tail coiling over her waist and hand coming to rest across the back of her shoulders, possessive but not confining. Other couples passed by in the aisle, and Adaine shrank closer to Machaira, allowing the tabaxi to steer her to the other side of the bar.

"Sorry," Machaira murmured.

"The fuck was that?" Adaine hissed. Machaira flinched a bit. "No, I mean, that was great, thank you." She backtracked quickly. "But gods, that was super scary and kinda hot all at once. Where on earth did you learn to do that?" Adaine's eyes were wide with fear, awe, and a hint of arousal. Machaira fought back a weird mix of pride and shame.

"Later," Machaira procrastinated, looking around, thankful the blue lighting would hide her blush. A young woman almost as muscular as Machaira was leading Kristen into the room with the 'Screwy Louis' band. Machaira and Adaine reconvened with the others to figure out what their next move was. Fig had apparently wasted a free drink by throwing it over her shoulder into Gorgug's face, and Kristen had met another young woman who had abandoned the worship of Sol. That Kristen actually seemed to think this Tracker girl wanted to talk about religion was both totally in character for their cleric and so painfully outlandish the rogue cackled. Riz tried to set up a plan to investigate.

"I would just like to find somewhere that's quieter, please." Adaine said quickly, voice muffled amid the cacophony around them.

"Should we investigate and see if there's a room that they would meet in?" Riz ploughed through.

"Yeah, great." Adaine nodded, keen to be somewhere else. They decided to split up so that one group would be in each room. Kristen and her new lady friend, who seemed to have no interest more malicious than getting laid, were already occupying the Moon Room. Riz, Gorgug, and Fig went to the back room to check out the DJ. Fabian, Machaira, and Adaine went to the whiskey bar. What had seemed scary to Adaine a few minutes ago now had her sagging with relief, though she maintained her hold on Machaira's tail even in the relative quiet.

"I'm looking for people who seem shady, but honestly everybody here seems shady to me," Adaine muttered as they took seats at the bar.

"Different types of shady," Machaira nitpicked. "We're looking for shady but intelligent, shady with purpose." Though no longer painfully loud, Machaira could still hear the DJ switch tracks to a classic dubstep. Something about the beat made her hackles bristle.

"Well everybody, now that we're all up and about, it's time to RAAAAAAAGE!" the bass line slammed into Machaira's ear drums. She unsheathed her claws, gouging the wood of the bar and sucking in a sharp breath.

"Machaira?" Adaine asked. The wizard yelped as the tabaxi's tail ripped from her grip, leaving a few strands of fur behind, lashing behind them like a whip. The tiny pinpricks of pain made her… angry, but excited. The rogue tried to close her eyes and stay calm, but her mind swam with images: a hand axe striking her jaw, a young dragon bucking underneath her body as she sank fangs into its spine, a wood elf holding her down as he pushed into her, the wood elf's body coming apart in her claws.

All around her Machaira could hear the grind of bones and rip of clothes, dangerous wolf scent emerging from humanoids. Overpowering fear scent rose from the Black Pit and washed over Machaira like a tidal wave, sweeping away any thought save the memories of pain and rage, her blood and enemy blood mixing in her mind until nothing else registered. Screaming broke out in the other rooms: the sound of prey. A throaty growl rolled from her chest, and Machaira stood straight, jaws parting to taste the air, basking in the smell of fear. Fear meant that others wouldn't hurt her. Fear meant prey. More than mere food, prey meant the splitting of hide and tearing of muscle under claw, the break of bone and gush of hot blood in her jaws.

"AAAUUURRRRR! AAAAAUURRRGGGGGHHH!" Machaira's roar was more of a rumbling cough than a resonant boom, but it rippled through the Black Pit, audible despite the terrible music that pounded against her brain, challenging anything and everything that might dare defy her right to the kill.

"We need to find everyone," Fabian said to Adaine. Machaira heard the sound, but the words did not register. He rushed off into another room, his quick movements exciting. Machaira itched to give chase, but some vague notion held her back. It moved like prey, but her inner predator felt unsatisfied by him. He was missing something. She snarled, confused and angered by her confusion.

"Machaira?" a timid voice asked. She whirled to face the elf trapped between the bar and Machaira. Her slight build and overwhelming fear scent should have marked her as prey. Every line of her body gave away her shock, and her body trembled. Everything about this girl said that she was prey. Machaira wanted to hunt. She needed to feel the rip of flesh and warm pulse of still living blood before it stilled. Her stomach rumbled, clenching on nothing. She would fill it with fresh meat tonight. She wanted to start now.

"Machaira, can you hear me?" The elf asked again, voice ringing with terror, breathing rough and shallow and rapid. She should have been prey. But she was not. Machaira did not know why, but unquestionably this was neither food nor foe. There was no rage, no fear. The horrible music beat against her skull, urging her to kill, but she could not attack this girl. Machaira opened her jaws, tasting the sour, acrid tang of panic mingling with a familiar elf scent. She gagged, lips curling over her teeth. The smell was bad. Her tail flicked uneasily. This was wrong. Machaira closed her jaws, lowering her head and flattening her ears to stare up at this unknown factor. She whined low in her throat, unsure what to do if she could not fight.

"It's me, Adaine. Machaira, can you hear me?" _Adaine_. Yes, this was Adaine. But she did not know what Adaine meant. Adaine was not a threat. She was not prey. Machaira whined again, inching forward. A lyncanthrope snarled, moving closer to them, eyes fixed on Adaine. Adaine took one look at the werewolf, and her fear scent intensified three-fold, making Machaira retch. Adaine hopped to the ground and ran along the bar toward the door, where cold, nighttime smells drifted. The werewolf tried to pursue, and every instinct in Machaira roared to life.

She shot at the dog, claws sinking into rough fur as she shook him, rolling it to the floor. The lycanthrope broke free and turned to growl at her, jaws salivating and hair standing on end. Machaira could smell gross human odor mingled with the dangerous wolf scent, but it hardly mattered to her. To her, threats doubled as prey. She snarled, rushing the werewolf. She sank her claws into its head, bone giving way to keratin as she tore through his face from skull to jawline. The werewolf slashed with warped nails, cutting a gash in her arm. The pain was more intense than it should have been, but it helped stoke the burning need to kill. Machaira lashed out, sinking talons into his shoulder and trying to drag him forward. Her prey pulled free, leaving a chunk of meat behind. Every tear of muscle brought some relief to her aching skull, a moment of fulfillment the predatory girl so rarely enjoyed. "It's bad, it's bad, it's bad!" Adaine yelled from behind the dog, which turned to face the noise. Machaira flicked it across the side of the neck, punishing its lapse of attention. As she fought, memories swam in front of her eyes like a hazy mirage superimposed over the present.

_She was twelve, sitting in a bar next to an older lizardman. With the onset of puberty had come an increase in the attention she received, particularly from older men. Machaira knew these weren't the best people, but she was so starved for humanoid interaction that she took it from anyone, even this rough-handed reptile. The lizard chested up to an orc, who socked him in the jaw. Blood splattered on the counter. Machaira had killed many times but not since her heat cycle started. Something in the smell of his blood awoke a hunger in her, familiar in nature but foreign in intensity._

The hunger in her now was just as intense, painful and impossible to ignore. The wolf lunged, trying to wrestle her down, but Machaira rolled with the impact and flung him against the bar. She pounced, digging her claws into his shoulders and thumping him back against the bar once, twice, hoping to stun him long enough to strike the killing blow. He lashed out, slicing open her cheek. Machaira yowled more from outrage than pain, striking back twice, taking its right eye and slashing it across the chest.

_She didn't know it yet, but this was the first time she had smelled blood since her adult hunting instinct kicked in. A parent should have warned her about this, how fierce it would be, just like a parent should have taught her about everything else that was happening to her body. But no one had, and the tabaxi whirled on her bar stool. The orc tensed then recoiled as Machaira leapt onto her 'date', bowling him over and ripping the meat off his cheek. The lizard tried to rise and force her off, but she dug her claws in. Her muscles were far ahead of normal development, and she put them to good use keeping her prey pinned. Her jaws closed over his mouth, crushing his mandible and maxillary. She twisted, ripping both free from the rest of his skull, relishing the crunch of bone between her teeth. Machaira lashed out again and again, excited by the spurts of blood, drunk on the rich aroma of iron and salt until the orc kicked her off. Only then did she come to her senses, realized what she'd done, turned, and run into the night, simultaneously crying in horror and savoring the taste of reptilian flesh._

Another, bigger werewolf rushed from the other room, drawn by the pained howls of its comrade. Machaira struck her victim one last time across the head before whirling on this new foe, undaunted. The bigger wolf swung, and she ducked, swiping low across his leg from knee to heel. The bigger wolf stumbled but kicked out with its good leg, knocking her away. As Machaira rose, the first werewolf grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her chest and biting down on her shoulder as the second shook itself off and bounded forward.

_She lay bleeding out in the ditch, clawing at the soft clay walls, unable to do much more than paw feebly at the crumbling soil. The two elven women walked away, cleaning their knives and complaining about how little Machaira had for them. She breathing was fast and shallow. She felt cold. "Little wretch was too ugly to even play around with." One of them said. Machaira was past tears, past the fear of death. She no longer cared why people hurt her. She just wanted it to stop. She didn't want to be weak anymore._

Machaira kicked off the ground and slammed her boots right between the charging man's eyes, stunning and knocking him down. She used the momentum of her attack to swing her feet down, flipping the lycanthrope off of her back and onto the bar. The bar shuddered, her opponent jarred, his legs dangling off the back and his head off the front. Machaira brought her forearm down on his neck, snapping his spine against the edge of the bar. She felt the lycanthropy fester in her shoulder, trying to burrow into her body and mind. But Machaira was as wild as any lycanthrope, perhaps more so, and the infection could not take hold.

_Her parents growled at her, telling her that she was their punishment, their embarrassment. Machaira tried to cover her ears, but she could still hear them as she backed away. Her mother berated her for eating the frog, for humiliating them by proxy. Her stomach hurt as her mother told her that she was living up to her name, a brutish beast scratching about in the mud. Machaira tried to tell them that she had been hungry, but her father roared over her. Machaira's back hit a wall. She tried to shrink away, to look non-threatening, but her very presence threatened her parents' place in the community. They told her so. She went from covering her ears to covering her fangs, as if she could make them forget the crime of her birth. Primitive, ugly, cursed._

She pounced on the other werewolf as it tried to rise, music still thumping in her head. The lycanthrope was heavier than she, but the tabaxi had been hunting above her weight class for years. Her body was built for it. She forced him under her, grabbing his throat tightly in her jaws, immobilizing muscles and tendons. Lions strangled their prey; she found that a waste of time. Machaira shook her head, wrenching the canine skull from side to side, relying on the power in her shoulders, neck, and skull to overcome resistance from the werewolf's entire body. The struggles beneath her grew weaker until they stopped. Two final shakes, and the battered shapeshifter finally died.

_Machaira cried out as a tentacle bristling with serrated hooks tore down her side, ripping a messy, uneven wound from armpit to hip. The displacer beast taunted her in draconic, calling her weak and assuming, asking her when she would start to mewl. Machaira's saber flashed, slicing off a tentacle. The creature yowled and pounced. Machaira feinted to dash under it, leaping aside at the last moment to flick her blade over its eyes, blinding it. The displacer beast roared, reminding her that he guarded the dragon's brood, that he would not falter so easily, right up until she sheathed her sword up to the hilt in his brain._

For a moment, the horrible pain in her head ceased, and Machaira could enjoy the euphoric power that came from the kill. Then the music crashed over her again, echoes of the past mingling with the present. She roared, rage and triumph mixed in the sound. A pained cry from the coat room answered her challenge. _Adaine_. Machaira bounded toward the scream, mane fluffed behind her head. She saw a werewolf backing the elf toward the door. Blood flowed down Adaine's forearm from a bite mark. The lycanthrope, covered in vomit and mad with bloodlust, bared it fangs and stepped forward to take another swipe at her.

"Not yours, dog," Machaira roared, crashing into his back and wresting him away from Adaine. "Not prey." She insisted, crouching in the hall between the lycanthrope and elf, tail snapping, lips peeled back over her teeth. The wolf snarled and rushed the girls. Machaira jumped to meet it halfway, and the half-breeds fell to the ground, clawing and wrestling in a screeching knot of animal muscle and humanoid hatred. The werewolf pinned her down, jagged nails cutting across her muzzle. Machaira swiped at him, clawed hand buffeting him across the snout. He staggered, and she drew her feet between them, kicking him into the opposite wall.

Machaira pounced again, claws sinking into his shoulders. The werewolf's twisted talons were basic slashing weapons, but her own claws were designed for something else entirely. As much as she scratched with them, the wicked hook-shape was intended to puncture skin, muscle, and bone, holding a creature immobile. The werewolf struck twice, one hand scraping against her brow while the other scored a hit on her breasts, leaving a line of fiery pain in its wake. Machaira snarled in pain and contempt, maneuvering to grip the beast from behind. Most people didn't understand this, but outside of the city it was a cat-eat-dog world.

Opening her jaws well over ninety degrees, Machaira swung her head to the side. Her lower canines gripped the underside of his mandible, upper fangs digging into the base of the skull. The wolf struggled, but she dug her claws deep into the base of its neck. She flexed her jaws, crushing the back half of the lycanthrope's skull in her teeth. She held onto the twitching corpse for a moment, both to ensure it was dead and savor the crunch of a bone between her jaws. Brain wasn't a great taste, but the heavy flavor of iron rich blood, marrow, and muscle made up for it.

Machaira rose, growling, and shook herself. Blood splattered the walls, both hers and that of lupine victims. She turned to face Adaine, tilting her head to the side as she studied her. Images still swam over the back of her consciousness, but Adaine felt more in focus than the illusory scenes. The paradox presented itself yet again. She reeked of fear, but it was a bad smell. She was not prey, nor was she a threat. The music rattled around her head, urging her to kill. But she could not kill Adaine.

Machaira hissed, frustrated. Adaine flinched and took a step back. Machaira immediately lowered her body, head dipping down and ears lying back. Adaine was afraid of her. She was supposed to be scary: it helped her kill. But Adaine shouldn't be afraid of her. Something about that felt so fundamentally wrong it hurt her, worse than her injuries, worse than the song in her head.

"Machaira?" Adaine asked again. Her breathing was fast, shallow, and noisy. There was fear in her voice. Fear of Machaira. That was bad. But there was no enemy to attack here, no solution to the problem. The tabaxi dropped her tail between her legs, whining. She pushed the dead lycanthrope toward Adaine with her boot.

"… Dead," she grunted. Speech felt hard. She could barely pronounce the syllables, wasn't even sure if she had the right words. "Don't… not afraid… Dog dead." It took almost thirty seconds to grind out that statement, golden eyes twisted up to meet blue as the predator lowered her head further. The music spurred her to the kill. Machaira's body shivered with the dubstep, but she did not attack. There was nothing here for her to attack. Adaine's fear didn't go away, but her eyes changed from panic to something more complicated.

Still trembling, Adaine took a step forward. Machaira stepped back in time with her, unsettled. She didn't want to scare Adaine. She didn't know why, but she knew that she did not like that. And she didn't know how to fix it. Adaine took another step toward her. Machaira stepped back. Adaine took a third step, and Machaira hit a wall. She flattened herself against the wall, another low whine rising from her throat.

"Do you remember me?" Adaine asked. She still smelled afraid.

"… Adaine," Machaira choked out, coughing up blood. More blood flowed down her face into her eyes. She shook her head impatiently. Adaine reached out for her, and Machaira flinched. She had nowhere left to go. She saw nothing to fight against.

"Your fear… bad," she growled, trying to impress the situation upon her. "Not… not prey." The music hit a loud, resounding note, and Machaira snarled, shaking her head again. Adaine reached for her. Machaira closed her eyes, twisting away from the small, clawless hand. She was afraid of that hand. A soft palm covered her cheek. Machaira growled, but the small pressure did not retreat. She shivered, torn between the demands of the music and her own basic instinct.

"Shhhh," Adaine hushed. "I am afraid." Machaira snarled, her whole body shuddering. Bad, a problem with nothing to attack. "I am afraid for you." A yellow eye cracked open to stare at her. "You're… sick, Machaira. The music is making you sick." Machaira briefly stopped snarling. The music still pulsed in her head. She didn't like it. "You're stronger than the music though." Adaine placed a hand on her other cheek. The elf tried to turn her face, but Machaira tilted her muzzle up and away, rumbling unhappily.

"Machaira, I need you to help me." The tabaxi looked back down at her, subconsciously allowing the elf to steer her head, palms on her cheeks, fingers framing her eyes. "I have to go back in there, and I need you to help me find the others, okay? I'm scared, but I'm scared because I'm worried about you." Adaine stepped closer until her body was almost flush with Machaira's. The elf leaned forward, pressing her forehead to her own. The tabaxi continued trembling, her eyes locked onto Adaine's. Adaine was afraid, but her stare was hard with determination. "I'm not leaving you. Not again. But I need you to come with me. Can you do that?" Slowly, Machaira nodded.

Adaine's fingers stroked her cheek as she pulled away, wet with Machaira's blood. The feline focused on Adaine, struggling to ignore the translucent images that swam across her vision. She staggered after the elf, disregarding the panicked people that streamed past them. Adaine drew closer to Machaira as they sped past. As they reentered the Moon Room, more werewolves turned to them, as did a scattering of vampires. One undead lunged for Adaine but fell back as Machaira struck it across the face. Adaine fired a bolt of lightning from behind her, dropping the vampire. The tabaxi stood in front of the elf, rage storming up again, when suddenly the music stopped.

Machaira staggered, head spinning. She gasped, feeling thought rise in her mind as if from a deep pool of water. The tabaxi blinked once, twice, three times, dimly aware of vampires and werewolves doing the same around her. Adaine grabbed her hand and pulled. Machaira looked up at her hazily, struggling to piece the past few minutes together.

"Come on, hurry," Adaine urged. Machaira trotted after her, increasingly aware of her surroundings, including the gore on her hands and muzzle. Memories of her slaughter crisped. _Oh gods, no, no, no_. She shuddered, stumbling over the disemboweled lizardman, so similar to the one she had killed all those years ago. She knew that the music must have been sorcerous, designed to send monsters on a rampage, but then she had proven where her nature lay. In the span of two minutes Machaira had taken three lives. She hadn't improved at all over the years. She was still that violent, unstable cub striking out at anything around her.

"You holdin' silver?" A werewolf asked a vampire, hackles rising again. Adaine tugged Machaira over to their party, and the tabaxi followed mechanically, self-hate spiraling through her soul.

"Let's get out of here!" Gorgug yelled, helping Kristen up. Fabian ran over to Riz and picked him up off the table. The goblin happily leapt into the fighter's arms.

"Long have the vampires and werewolves fought each other," a vampire began pompously. "An ancient rivalry forged in the midnight of dangerous mists long past."

"I'm bored," Kristen complained.

"He is such a creep." Adaine came to a quick conclusion about the vampire. She turned to Machaira, but the rogue looked away from her. Machaira could not bear to see the expression on her face, head still ringing with the fears and rage of past failures. Adaine had seen her for the monster she was. She didn't want to see the change in her expression. Her fur was sticky with blood and viscera. She wanted to get clean. She wanted to find somewhere quiet and dark and safe to curl up in. But she had to stay. _My party might still need a rabid cat_, she reflected bitterly.

"Werewolves, look, his swords are silver," Riz hollered. "What's he doing with silver swords?"

"Stop it, stop doing that," Fabian chastised the boy in his arms. A beefy, lupine woman with orange hair chested up to the pompous vampire leader. Fig winked at her. A golden glow of bardic inspiration surrounded her. The woman grinned.

"Oh, hell yeah," she growled. "See you on the other side, sister." The werewolf clocked the vampire across the face.

"Ow, look at this mangy cur striking me before the rules of combat have been declared." The vampire complained. Kristen tugged on Gorgug's arm

"Can we take the long way out?" Kristen asked. "I just wanna see if Tracker's okay. My friend, my new friend."

"Run." Gorgug argued. The party followed the berserker, dashing through a broken window, through the Moon Room, through the whiskey bar, and past the coat check into the parking lot. Police sirens wailed in the distance. A hulking werewolf was rising up off the asphalt. The wolfhound that had been holding him down was pacing around him, snuffling his jacket, a golden glow starting to dissipate from around it. Adaine clutched Machaira's arm. Machaira, still shivering from psychological confusion and deprecation, nevertheless moved to block her, drawing her saber for the first time that night. The huge werewolf looked at Adaine's arm and winced.

"Oh, hey, I'm sorrrrrry," he growled sheepishly, ears going down.

"Yeah, it really hurt," Adaine told him. She glanced over at Machaira's host of wounds and flinched. "Oh god, Kristen, can you get over here?" The cleric touched Adaine's arm, sealing her cut. "Not me, Machaira." Adaine snapped. Machaira let the redhead heal her, but in truth she had kinda welcomed the pain. It helped block the memories.

"Ahhh, uhhh," the werewolf tried to form a sentence, hands rising apologetically and dropping to his sides in defeat.

"What are you doing man?" Adaine asked him.

"It's not me, it's a sickness," the lycanthrope protested. "I'm sick. I'm just sick. I'm not well."

"Man, we're all sick," Adaine told him. In reference to their party, probably true. But the werewolf took her statement more generally.

"Okay, we're not all sick, alright. I have lycanthropy. You can go to a healer about it."

"Okay, well, maybe you should go to a healer about it," Adaine instructed. In her indignation, some of her panic waned. Machaira took a deeper breath, less cloyed by fear scent.

"I don't have healthcare." The seven teens looked at each other, six of them coming to a silent agreement that this was the scariest thing they'd seen all night. Machaira mentally declared it a close second to her own cruelty.

"Oh, that's so sad," Fig bemoaned.

"Go to a clinic," Adaine insisted. "I don't know what to tell you." She reached out behind Machaira for the tabaxi's tail, but Machaira snapped it between her legs and away from Adaine. She stayed between her and the bouncer but refused to look at the elf directly. She didn't need to see anything else terrible that night.

"There's some guidance counselor positions open at our school," Riz informed him.

"They have good healthcare there?" The bouncer asked. Riz shrugged and the entire party muttered positive suppositions. "Where do you guys go to school?"

"Aguefort." Came a unanimous reply. Almost at once the seven teens frowned and turned to stare at Riz in confusion. Why were they setting up this violent werewolf as the school guidance counselor?

"Cool, so that's great," the bouncer said. "Well, my name's Jawbone if you want to put in a reference."

"Mumple has better healthcare," Kristen claimed.

"I've got an in with the VP, Vice Principal," Fig promised. "So, I could probably make that work."

"Thanks, Jawbone, sorry guys, that was a bad idea," Riz cackled, clearly confused as to whom he was speaking to. They started to jog away. Jawbone waved goodbye to them, smiling like this was his first big break in a while. The sirens got louder.

"Let's keep the party going," Fig called.

"My mom's gonna be pissed if she finds me here. Let's get out." Riz stated.

"We can't go to my house; my parents are pricks." Kristen countered.

"I do live right around the corner from here," Fabian admitted.

"Let's go to your house," Adaine said. The elf smiled but kept glancing nervously at Machaira.

"We could weigh the other options," Fabain began.

"Friends, friends, friends, friends," Riz, Gorgug, and Kristen chanted.

"Okay, everyone, stop chanting." Fabian asked.

"Now that you've mentioned it," Fig segwayed. "I don't usually like to – I know that I'm probably pretty hard to read. You guys don't really know what I'm feeling. But we are like – "

"You have SPILLED your guts to us, twice a day." Kristen countered.

"You are the most open person I've ever met." Adaine asserted.

"You are the one that most desperately wants friends." Riz claimed, a tall order by their group's standards.

"Alright, fine, we can go to my house," Fabian knuckled under. Fig led them through the back alleys and divey parts of downtown toward the Seacaster Manor, more familiar with the area than the rest of them. The tiefling was chain smoking cloves, burning through them so fast they were hidden in a cloud of terrible potpourri smells that flooded Machaira's eyes with tears, burning her nose. Adaine, Kristen, and Gorgug gagged. After a few minutes, Fig doubled over in an alley and barfed. Riz saw this and sympathy barfed.

"Alright, everyone needs to stop barfing." Fabian commanded. "Alright, no one's coming in my house – there's no barfing in my house." Gorgug belched a column of vomit and passed out on the sidewalk. Riz began performing CPR on the half-orc but vomited on him in the process. What the fuck had happened to them between the Black Pit and now? "Alright, you know what, everyone is going to get new clothes." Privately, Machaira thought Fabian might become her next terrible PTSD memory if he tried to take away her jacket.

"I just love the way they taste," Fig sputtered around another clove, gagging on her vomit even as she spoke.

"You're still smoking?" Kristen asked incredulously.

"Just eat candy," Adaine told her, her lovely accent ringing with a nearly musical blend of concern and amusement.

"I think you guys will have to carry me," Gorgug groaned.

"They just taste so good," Fig repeated, staggering upright amid yet more vomit. Their bard eventually managed to stand and continued leading the way to Fabian's house.

Adaine, still a little spooked by the neighborhood, stayed close to Machaira. The tabaxi didn't attempt to deter her, and occasionally murmured encouragement to the elf but ultimately would neither touch Adaine nor meet her eyes. Her boots stumbled over the concrete, still slick with blood. She would rather fight a hundred lycanthropes than look back and see what her friend was thinking. Instead she stared ahead or down, shoulders hunched against the voices of her past.

_Primitive, ugly, cursed._

_Primitive, ugly._

_Brutish beast._

_Brutish._

_Killer._


	9. The Graveyard of Good and Evil - Part 1: Lessons from Seacaster Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fight in the Black Pit, the party must survive a stay at Seacaster Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel comfortable dividing the stay at Seacaster manor between chapters, but it made this one a little long. I also wanted to give a little more insight into how and why Adaine went about the makeover idea, try to tie it into her character more. I am sorry for the delay, but trying to parcel out what everyone is saying and transcribing it for the conversations is a nightmare. If the dialogue wasn't so damn funny, it would be a chore. But I'm enjoying the story, and it seems like you guys are too.
> 
> Any and all comments are welcome. Feedback, both positive and negative, is appreciated. If there is anything you like or dislike more than any other part, please tell me.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 7: The Graveyard of Good and Evil – Part 1: Lessons from Seacaster Manor**

"Alright welcome to my house," Fabian began a little nervously. "Everyone, please, if there's any barf on you, don't track barf into my house, alright? Please, that's all I ask." Adaine and Fig giggled while Riz and Gorgug nodded with unpleasant acceptance of their current disgusting condition. Seacaster Manor was in fact a giant red and gold Man O' War ship that had been hauled out of the river. The property was surrounded by a topiary hedge maze and long white gravel driveways. It was both entirely unexpected and absolutely perfect for Fabian. As they walked into the living room, Adaine caught sight of a beautiful high elf woman drinking a goblet of wine on the living room sofa.

"Hello, mama," Fabian greeted.

"Fabian," His mother trilled, musical voice slurred. "Fabiaaaaaan."

"How are you? Aw, mother." Fabian's voice was softer, his swagger mellowed into adulation.

"Ah, you brought friends," Mrs. Seacaster quietly exclaimed. She treated the rest of the party to a slightly lopsided smile of drunken delight.

"Yes, mother, these are my friends." Fabian gestured to the rest of the party. "This is The Ball, Kristen, Adaine, Machaira, Gorgug, and Fig."

"Hi, I'm Fig," Fig confirmed. "I love your kimono."

"This thing?" She asked airily.

"Yeah."

"It was knit for me by dwarves, skilled craftsmen." The elder elf informed her.

"Dwarves knit you a kimono?" Gorgug asked.

"What?"

"Nevermind." The party chuckled at their befuddled barbarian.

"Hello, nice to meet you, Mrs. Seacaster." Machaira murmured in elven. Adaine knew the tabaxi wanted to be respectful, but her elven pronunciation wasn't great, and she couldn't speak the language without stuttering. Mrs. Seacaster raised a well-defined eyebrow at her, and the rogue stared at her feet. Adaine stepped forward and delivered her best formal high-elven greeting. Mrs. Seacaster gave Adaine a look the younger elf could not quite interpret.

"Many long years has it been since I was spoken to in the tongue of stars and moon." Her voice lost most of its inebriated distortion, smoothing into a rich, refined melody. "A beautiful elf maiden you are." Adaine brushed a strand of hair over her ear, conscious of her dirty prep school uniform and torn shirt sleeve. "I married a human, you see."

"Yes, I know." Adaine responded, brushing back the same lock of hair again.

"And he will die." There was no grief in her tone, only acceptance. Elves learned to embrace the fleeting nature of their relationships with other beings, often looking ahead to the next chapter of their life afterward. By the intent look in her eyes, Mrs. Seacaster was planning on involving Adaine in that next phase. Adaine blushed and touched her hair again, unsure how to respond. Machaira growled so lowly that the sound was almost inaudible, more of a tactile tremor that rattled the walls than a discernible noise.

"Dude, I think your mom's bi," Kristen whispered to Fabian.

"Okay, no, nobody's hitting on my mother right now," Fabian insisted.

"I look like a tiefling, but I'm like part elf," Fig said to Mrs. Seacaster, leaning back and sticking her chest out a bit. "So, I'm also an elf maiden, if that's what you're into." Fabian's mother completely ignored her in favor of staring at Adaine. Adaine smiled nervously, torn between excited pleasure at receiving this kind of interest from such a gorgeous elven woman and discomfort at receiving this kind of interest from her friend's much older mother. Adaine could hear the _swish_ of Machaira's tail picking up speed behind her.

"You're…" She peered closer at Adaine. "Wait a minute, you're Angwyn and Arianwyn's daughter." Some of the excitement left Adaine.

"Yes, that's right."

"I've heard such wonderful things about you." Adaine's heartbeat stumbled. "The acceptance of the scholarship to Hudol…" Her heart plummeted.

"No, that's my sister," she corrected. Any remaining hope that her parents were secretly proud of her dropped dead. Of course they only talked about Aelwyn.

"Hmm?"

"That's my sister." Mrs. Seacaster thought about it for a moment.

"Aelwyn is the elder," she remembered.

"Yes, yes," Adaine verified. "I'm friends with your son."

"Yes, we're friends," Fabian confirmed brightly, his cheer not quite reaching his eyes. He glanced uneasily at Adaine, clearly uncomfortable with the fact that his mom was flirting with her. Machaira sucked in a quick breath and placed her palm on Adaine's shoulder blade. Adaine felt part of the knot forming in her gut dissolve, tension easing just a bit from her chest.

"Oh, Fabian, that's lovely. I like to see you make friends, my little baby." Fabian's mother cooed.

"Oh, mom," Fabian complained, smiling despite his embarrassment.

"So handsome," she praised, for no reason other than she adored her child unconditionally. Adaine felt so much smaller than she had forty seconds ago. Machaira squeezed her shoulder gently, but when Adaine turned to look at her the tabaxi was staring firmly at the floor, ears pressed back. Her stomach dropped. Adaine had a pretty good idea why her friend was upset with her, and as much as it hurt, the wizard didn't blame her.

"Mama." Fabian almost seemed to have forgotten about them under his mother's affection.

"A heartbreaker through and through."

"Oh, no, that's not like me," Fabian muttered shyly.

"Ah, well, mommy's going to go get a chalice of night wine," Mrs. Seacaster told her son, placing her currently empty chalice down on the coffee table. "Then she's going to retire to the sensory deprivation egg.

"Of course, of course, oh, yes," Fabian assured her. "We'll keep the noise down."

"Alright," she conceded, blowing kisses at her son. "Do you want me to have Cathilda put out some food?"

"Oh, no, there's no need," Fabian claimed.

"Nah, I'm pretty hungry," Fig disagreed. Machaira's stomach rumbled hugely. The tabaxi gave Adaine's shoulder one last squeeze and drew away.

"I'm hungry," Riz added.

"I'll go wake Cathilda up and make her make – " Mrs. Seacaster began.

"Do not go wake…" Fabian began to protest, stuttering.

"I ate cereal with water today," Riz explained.

"Ta ta." Fabian's mom waved goodnight and walked off.

"Your mom is so hot," Fig gushed the second she left the room. Adaine would have agreed before the older elf brought her family into the mix.

"I can't _believe_ she tried to jailbait Adaine," Machaira snarled. The rogue's eyes were angry but dull. Her hackles bristled only a little before dropping down, her tail kinking sharply but low against the floor.

"Okay, can we not talk about my mother like that?" Fabian pleaded. A few moments after Mrs. Seacaster left the room, a Halfling in a traditional black and white maid uniform walked in, smiling at Fabian.

"Hello, Cathilda." Fabian greeted the Halfling almost as warmly as he had his mother.

"Hello there, Fabian," Cathilda said every bit as fondly. "How are you doing? You doing alright?"

"I'm doing great," Fabian responded. "We had a rather crazy night, but you really don't have to do too much, right, just, my friends are peckish."

"I'll put out some sandwiches then, shall I?"

"Alright, thank you," Fabian said quickly, shuffling his feet a bit. He seemed less than enthused about making this woman prepare food for seven teenagers so late. Adaine took a moment to appreciate that her friends were more complicated than she sometimes gave them credit for.

"Lovely, lovely," Cathilda laughed, moving away to prepare their food. Heavy boots stomped on hardwood as Bill Seacaster swaggered into the room. The most piratey pirate to ever pirate, Fabian's father had a gravity about him, like the pressure system of an incoming storm.

"Well, look at this," Bill Seacaster half laughed, half bellowed. "A bunch of fine friends, me young lad."

"Yes, yes, papa, these are – these are my friends from the Adventuring Academy. Yeah, we've had a rather wild night." Fabian stood straighter and smiled brighter in a weird mix of nerves and happiness. Though his voice regained any confidence lost from the incident with his mother, Fabian's stutter almost got worse.

"Well, it looks like it," Bill Seacaster agreed. "You've got yourself in some kind of scrap then, have ya?" He grinned at his son like this was wonderful news.

"Yes, we did." Bill roared with laughter. Adaine stepped forward and tried to deliver the same formal elven greeting. He frowned.

"What was that?" He asked. "I don't speak a word of elvish, lass."

"Oh," Adaine whispered. She probably should have guessed from what Mrs. Seacaster had told her.

"I'm not a man of letters. I've come from nothing and made rather something of myself." He laughed, spreading his arms to gesture to the mansion.

"I was just saying hello," Adaine explained quietly.

"Right, well, hello to you as well in the common tongue then." Adaine looked down, knowing her cheeks were red.

"Greetings and salutations," Riz said, handing Bill a business card. Adaine heard the slap of a face-palm behind her.

"As I said, I'm not a man of letters," Bill reminded them. "So I can't read."

"That's right," Fabian interjected, stepping forward. "Papa, this is The Ball, Kristen, Adaine, Gorgug, Fig, and Machaira." Machaira stepped forward and looked Bill Seacaster up and down.

"I see where Fabian gets it from," she said.

"Where he gets what from, exactly?" Bill questioned. The tabaxi shrugged.

"Everything, really," she replied casually, meeting Bill's animated gaze squarely. Machaira's voice was calm but rough and heavy. Bill Seacaster roared with laughter.

"Of course! He's my son! Fabian is a reflection of myself. Hang on…" Bill strode up to Machaira, towering over her. "Be ye the one who slapped my boy?" Machaira's shoulders tensed under her jacket.

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Good on ye!" He laughed. "Good on ye for keeping my boy straight. Tis' a loyal crew member who can stand up and tell their mates when they're at fault. When I heard my Fabian lost six times in a row to a catfolk, I couldna' believe it. But now that I see ya, I understand. Most of your kind are soft, fickle things, but you got a fire in your eyes. I can see that you're a killer, through and through."

"You're not wrong." Adaine hated the weary acceptance in her tone. Bill Seacaster looked over at Fabian and beamed.

"But he beat ya in the end, didn't he," Bill laughed. "Oh, my boy, my darling boy, ya got yourself a fine crew. Hold onto the people who make ya stronger. Those are the – wait a minute. Is that… is that scrimshaw ya got on your buttons?" Bill Seacaster leaned over to peer more closely at Machaira's jacket. While the tabaxi did not react, Adaine internally fumed at Fabian's father for looking so closely at her friend's chest, however innocent the reason might be.

"Uh, yeah. I sometimes, yeah, it is," Machaira stuttered. Bill grinned ear to ear.

"Hah! That be some fine craftsmanship." He praised. Machaira's tail flicked up a bit. "Would ya mind doing a carving for me sometime?"

"Um… I've, uh, never made one for anyone else," Machaira said slowly. "But, uh, sure, why not. I just need to get a good bone for it."

"Wonderful," Bill laughed again. "I'm not a man of letters, but I do appreciate such talents."

"Hey, if you're not a man of letters, I got something I think you might like," Fig said, swinging her bass around and playing the sickest sea shanty of all time. Bill Seacaster gave Fig the most intense look Adaine had ever seen and began slamming his fist against a wooden table in time with the rhythm.

"Sally Bones is a nice young lady," he thundered. "We won't let go, we won't let go. HAHAHAHA! Come on here, dogs!" Pirates swung in on ropes from the upper balcony and popped out of barrels on the ground floor. The party was caught between laughter and panic as they were surrounded by performing corsairs. Adaine's blood pressure almost doubled. Machaira's tail had puffed into a four-foot plus bottle brush.

"This happens a lot in this house," Fabian reassured them, the only calm person in the room.

"They've just been sitting in barrels this whole time?" Gorgug asked.

"I pay them to stay here in case this happens, and THEY'LL STAY IN THE BARREL UNTIL IT DOES! You stay in the barrel until the music happens!" Bill Seacaster's voice filled the room. The men standing in the barrels clapped their hands, smiles fixed as they wept silently. Fig picked up the pace of the shanty a bit, her expression guilty, knowing that once she stopped playing these people had to go back into the barrel.

"Keep playing, lass," Bill cried. "We'll sing til the sun rises! Two, three, four – "

"Sally Bones is a nice young lady. We won't let go. We won't let go." The party sang with Bill, terrified by this clearly deranged man. When he said that they would sing until the sun rises, he meant it. By four in the morning Adaine was exhausted, scared, and could barely speak, let alone sing. Only forced participation in the endless sea shanties kept her from panicking. Fig's fingers were red and raw, even with Bill breaking out an accordion to relieve her from time to time.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Machaira told Bill the second the latest song had ended. "Which way is it?"

"Down the hall and to the left," he cried, pointing. "Hurry back though! Ye don't want to miss out on any more shanties than ya have to." As Machaira fast walked down the hall, Adaine quickly announced that she had to go as well and moved to follow. By the time Adaine found the right room, the rogue had already locked the door. Adaine could hear water running. She knocked softly.

"Machaira, are you actually using the bathroom, or are you just hiding from the shanties?" She asked.

"I'm… I'm washing up," Machaira disclosed. "I, my, uh, my fur was, I… I really wanted to wash off." Adaine waited a moment, teething her lip. Gods, she didn't want to do this, but she knew she had to.

"Can I come in?" She asked. "I want to talk." The wizard could hear her friend draw in a long breath through her nose and hold it before sighing. The door unlocked and opened. Machaira was staring at the ground, ears flat, tail skittering between her legs. Her muzzle, which had been crusted with blood and bits of tissue all night, was dripping, little flecks of flesh shifted down her face from where she's been trying to remove them. Pink water dribbled onto the white rug.

The tabaxi stepped aside, and Adaine scooted in. Machaira locked the door behind her and walked back to the sink. The bathroom was large enough that ten people could have stood comfortably inside it, so Adaine gave her friend some space, standing a few feet closer to the door. Machaira was scrubbing her hands in the water, using two fingers to rub along the length of each individual claw. She refused to look at Adaine, even in the mirror, keeping her shoulders hunched over the sink.

"I… I'm sorry," Adaine said after a moment. Machaira snorted.

"For what? You didn't do anything." The rogue's voice was so bitter it curdled in her ears.

"That's what I'm sorry for," Adaine explained. She hated admitting this, hated that she had to say this, but she hated this wall between them more. "I, I shouldn't have run away, back in the whiskey bar. I should – should've done something. But I, I, I panicked and I ran away and… I'm sorry." Machaira focused on scraping something out from the underside of a claw. Pink fluid stained the white marble counter.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about." She said eventually. "You ran away from a monster. Who could blame you?" Gods, everything about her voice was wrong. She sounded so tired and bitter and depressed. Ever since the Pit, Machaira had been withdrawn and distracted. Adaine had tried to talk to her, but she kept looking away, eyes dulled and expression drawn. Her friend wouldn't let her in, and Adaine just knew that she was hurt that the elf had left her alone.

When everyone started transforming, Fabian ran off before Adaine fully understood what was going on. Then she saw that Machaira was staggering, shaking her head and flexing her claws. When the tabaxi opened her eyes, it was like looking at a funhouse mirror. Her fiery blaze remained yet nothing else did. The creature that roared and snarled at nothing and everything wasn't Machaira but a partial reflection, like someone had drained her fury away and given it its own shape. Machaira was ferocious, but she always fought to protect. The thing that had stood in front of her was not warm but burned. She had gone from a fire to an explosion: destruction without utility, heat without comfort.

Adaine could not remember being so scared as when she saw that the music had also taken over Machaira. But when the tabaxi turned on her, the anger died, replaced by confusion. She had remained controlled, but unlike the werewolves and vampires, she did not attack. Unable to speak, brain addled by sorcery, and mad with bloodlust, Machaira had recognized her. Adaine remembered seeing those eyes flicker with uncertainty, fear showing through as the real Machaira fought against the music. Somewhere deep in those golden orbs glimmered a familiar look Adaine had grown to crave, when her friend would stare at her and smile like the high elf was something wonderful and special that the tabaxi couldn't quite understand. When she flinched away and whined, Machaira had seemed more scared than scary.

But the second Adaine saw that werewolf look at her, she'd ran. And it had been Machaira, confused and sick, who'd paid the price. She had saved Adaine twice that night, holding her own against three lycanthropes while the elf panicked. When she'd dispatched the werewolf that attacked Adaine, the wizard had been terrified her friend would die. Her body had been covered with gashes, blood staining huge swathes of clothes and fur. She'd had her own bite wound as well. Adaine had abandoned Machaira to save herself, and she thought that she would lose her because of it.

Even then, despite the violence and mind control, Machaira's instinct had been to reassure her. _Don't… not afraid. Your fear… bad. Not… not prey_. Watching the tabaxi struggle to comfort her, pupils dilated and breathing as ragged as her clothes and fur, blood pouring down her head, Adaine's fear shifted from herself to her friend. Machaira had been confused and scared and hurt, and it was all Adaine's fault for leaving her alone. When Adaine watched a barely conscious Machaira follow her, trusting her at such a deep, instinctive level that even the undead DJ couldn't shake it, she'd felt like the shittiest person ever. Now Machaira wouldn't look at her, and Adaine didn't know how to make this right.

"I fucked up," Adaine whispered. She took a shaky breath, steeling herself. "When I saw you… affected, I didn't know what was going on. And then that werewolf came at me, and I ran away like a bitch. I should have stayed with you and helped you. Instead I, I, I just panicked, and you almost died. I left you alone, and I know that I can't make up for that, but I am so, so sorry." Machaira splashed water over her muzzle, scraping gore from her jaws.

"I don't think less of you for running away," the predator told her, exhaustion stealing over her voice. "I only think more of you for coming back." For the first time that night Machaira turned to meet her stare. Her eyes bled depression and exhaustion, but somewhere in that dull yellow gaze glittered a trace of unmistakable affection.

"It wasn't just the werewolf that almost killed you. You had every reason to run and get someplace safer. You saw me at my worst, and you reached out to me. You got me under control." Machaira said it like a good thing, but the words were all wrong.

"You weren't going to attack me." Adaine insisted. Machaira opened her mouth. "No, you weren't. I could see you resisting. You would never hurt me. You protected me twice. Even when it was just us in that coat check… you knew who I was. You tried to help me like you always do. You didn't go crazy like the werewolves and vampires did."

"I did," Machaira denied bitterly. "That DJ made every monster in the Black Pit show their true colors, and mine are just as red as theirs." The other girl hung her head over the sink. "It's like Fabian's dad said: I'm a killer through and through."

"Yeah, you are." Adaine agreed. "But you're not a monster. If that DJ showed your true colors, you're a better person than I am. You killed insane werewolves on a rampage, but you wouldn't hurt me. I knew that just by looking at you. You were sick, but you still knew right from wrong at some basic level."

Machaira shuddered, claws scraping along the sink. She stuck her mouth up to the stream and sucked up a mouthful of water. Adaine hadn't paid attention before, but Machaira had humanoid lips – thinner than most elves or humans but very much humanoid. When she spat out the mouthful of bloody water and stood, her lips curled inward to avoid her teeth, giving her mouth a fully feline appearance.

"When I heard that music… I saw every… I saw the worst parts of my life, of myself. I was so angry and scared, I couldn't think about anything else. So I lashed out, like I always do. Fighting is the only thing I understand. It's all I'm good for." Machaira looked so defeated. She always knew how to make Adaine feel better, but Adaine had no clue what to do for her. On instinct she reached out for Machaira's tail. The tabaxi pulled it away the second Adaine made contact, wrapping it around her leg.

"Please stop," Machaira whined, drawing back to the sink, just like she had earlier that night. "You've been yanking on my tail fur all night, and it hurts."

"Is that why you're mad at me?" Adaine asked, voice rising, chest tight.

"I'm not mad at you," Machaira snapped. She finally turned all the way around to look at her. "I'm ashamed. Ashamed of what I did tonight and of what I am. I'm ashamed that _you_ saw me for what I am." She looked at the carpet, blood and water dripping off her saber teeth. Adaine punched her in the shoulder.

"Stop." The wizard ordered. "How many times do I have to tell you not to be ashamed of being yourself around me? Especially not when you were _not _yourself. You're a fighter, you're a killer, and you're my friend." Adaine took a deep breath and continued more gently. "I get that you have problems you don't want to talk about, but you know you can trust me, right? Tonight was a really bad night. Everything was fucked, okay? I know you feel like shit, but you are being way too hard on yourself. You're a complicated person in a complicated position. So, just, stop shutting me out, okay?" For a count of fifteen, Machaira didn't respond.

"Thank you, for not giving up on me," Machaira murmured. "I know I can be… difficult, sometimes. I really appreciate you reaching out to me."

"Thanks for not being mad at me," Adaine said in kind, feeling the emotional rollercoaster of the night catching up with her. "I shouldn't have left you."

"You always come back," Machaira reminded her. "That's what I admire about you." The tabaxi smiled softly at her, and Adaine stepped forward to hug her. Machaira leaned back against the sink and hugged her in return. The rogue's wet muzzle dripped down her back, but Adaine didn't care. She felt a coil of muscle loop around her waist.

"I'm sorry I hurt your tail," Adaine apologized. "I'll be more careful."

"I like having my fur treated a little roughly," Machaira told her. "Like, getting it scratched or ruffled. Just don't grab a big chunk and jerk on it." Adaine huffed and pulled back, scooping up Machaira's tail. The tabaxi let her do it and closed her eyes with a contented sigh when Adaine started petting her. Adaine felt some of the stress of the night leave her and smiled in turn, happy to see her friend recover from their earlier trauma. The pressure of building panic eased away. Machaira slid a hand over Adaine's, curling her fingers around the elf's. Adaine let her friend manipulate her hand, curling her fingers through the tabaxi's fur to grab a firm fistful and guiding her on a short, hard tug, rocking her wrist backward until she hit resistance.

"That doesn't hurt," Machaira told her. "_That's_ great. But this – " She repositioned Adaine's hand into her grip from earlier that night and yanked straight out. Adaine could feel the difference at once. "That pulls on the follicle and skin instead of the muscle beneath it. Not that I have much of anything in my tail, but still." Adaine tried it again, and the tabaxi blinked slowly and sighed. Adaine felt a little thrill of triumph.

"Remember when you told me that there was nothing you had to teach me that I'd want to know?" Adaine reminded her. "Now I _know_ you have valuable skills to teach me." Machaira laughed. Adaine had always found it strange that some people liked having their hair pulled, a sensation she always found painful when she and her sister had squabbled as children. It had never occurred to her that there was a technique to it. She wondered how Machaira had learned but decided that was a question for another day.

The high elf stopped pulling and began scratching and ruffling her fur a little rougher than normal. Machaira hummed appreciatively, shoulders drooping as tension drained out. Adaine felt her own body respond empathetically to the tabaxi's ease, peace finally replacing distress. Adaine loved these little moments between them. Fig had once mentioned that it was nice that healing spells were based on touch. Adaine was largely foreign to touch as an expression of emotion. Her parents used it as a symbol of status or in chaste, restrained displays of affection.

During the rare occasions when Machaira would let Adaine touch her for more than a moment, touch took on a new meaning. Touch with her was a warm, intimate thing, only used when the tabaxi properly let down her guard. Touch from Machaira was special because the emotion behind it was genuine. Machaira didn't let people touch her, just Adaine, and only when she wanted to express something important to the high elf. But, all too soon, the tabaxi pulled away.

"As much as I hate to cut this short, the pirate king is going to start wondering where we are." Machaira readjusted her jacket as she spoke, and Adaine realized she still had a huge hole over one breast. The wizard blushed and quickly mended her jacket. Machaira chuckled.

"Would you be so keen to cover me up if I was a hot elf mom?" She teased. Adaine snorted and slapped her arm.

"No, I'd be much keener," she asserted. Machaira laughed again. Adaine decided this short tabaxi, messy fur still stained with viscera, was much preferable to Fabian's hot mom. When her friend gave her that wonderfully warm, personal smile, the high elf knew Machaira wasn't thinking about her parents or her sister or her panic attacks, just her.

"You gonna be okay?" Adaine asked. Machaira nodded firmly.

"It's always hardest to accept the reality of a kill immediately after," she told the wizard. "But I'll be okay, promise. After all," she bumped Adaine with her shoulder. "I've got you looking out for me."

The rest of the night was much easier to endure, though everyone was exhausted by the time Bill let them stop singing and dancing. Supplied with a steady stream of food and liquor throughout the night, the chance to finally sit down and watch the sun rise over Elmville from Seacaster Manor's gilded balcony was rather peaceful. Adaine had to admit that the Seacasters' taste in decoration was decadent to the extreme but very tasteful, as was their bourbon. The wizard usually preferred wine but thought this particular bottle had a nice burn to it, enough to pleasantly heat and numb her sore throat without getting her drunk too quickly.

"Roll the old chariot along, we'll roll the old chariot – ack, ah, haha, ha," Bill Seacaster more muttered than sang, thumping his fist on the table. Fig had both hands wrapped around a cold glass of water. The water existed solely to cool her horribly blistered fingers, as she was determined to only drink booze so long as booze was provided.

"Are you okay, Fig?" Kristen whispered.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's whatever," Fig responded, wincing as she stroked the water glass to get more condensation on her hands.

"Well, I suppose you children will be having some school this day," Bill opened, calmly pouring a line of snuff on his wrist and snorting it. Riz laughed with sleepy exasperation. Adaine, Fig, Gorgug, and Kristen stiffened nervously. Machaira did not react at all.

"Papa," Fabian protested.

"What?"

"You can't, we talked about – " Fabian descended into stuttering.

"I did a bit of snuff powder, what's the problem with that?"

"Yes, but you're not supposed to do it in front of guests," Fabian protested weakly.

"Can I have some?" Fig asked.

"No, no – "

"Absolutely," Bil told Fig before rounding on Fabian, pointing a finger at his son's face. "When you have a guest in your home, they are welcome to what is yours!" He roared.

"I don't want all my friends coming over here thinking they'll get snuff powder," Fabian mumbled.

"Dude, your dad just dunked on you," Fig told Fabian with a grin.

"Dad, do not dunk on me," Fabian pleaded as the rest of the party passed on dunking comments.

"I did not raise a man to not ply with friends with liquor and snuff powder," Bill growled ominously.

"Fine, ply my friends with snuff powder," Fabian muttered.

"Fig, you'd be my guest; please enjoy," Bill said to Fig cheerily, handing her a silver box of snuff powder. "You can keep the box if you like."

"Yeah, I will," Fig said, pouring a line of snuff on her wrist.

"Fig, that's illegal," Riz told her. "What you're doing is illegal."

"That's a very good point," Bill looked back at Fig. "Enjoy it all the more."

"Killing people is illegal and we've done plenty of that," Machaira added.

"Why do you care?" Fig asked Riz.

"Thank you, The Ball." Fabian jabbed a thumb at Riz. "The Ball contributes."

"Why do you think I'm doing it?" Fig asked, snorting the line of snuff.

"Oh," Kristen exclaimed, leaning away.

"Now, the point being is…" Bill trailed off, watching Fig trying to hold back tears.

"Did that burn?" Gorgug asked.

"Yeah, a little bit," Fig laugh/cried. "My nose is bleeding on the inside."

"What's it do?" Riz asked.

"Well, it keeps you up, wakes you right up," Bill exclaimed. "We've been up all night drinking. We need a bit of snuff powder to put the fight back in us, don't we?" Bill asked happily.

"I'll try it because I don't judge," Kristen rushed nervously.

"Yeah, get in on it, Kristen," Fig cheered, handing her the box. Kristen snorted a line and immediately sat straight.

"Whoa, thank you," she yelled, eyes stretched wide.

"Did you enjoy it?" Bill asked. "Have you never done it before?"

"Oh, I loved it," Kristen flagrantly lied. "But you know, I'm cool. You can invite me over whenever."

"You wanna try some, Machaira?" Fig asked. "I mean, you've done it before."

"Have ye now?" Bill inquired.

"Yes, I have, but I've been clean for over a year," Machaira sighed. "Thanks for telling everyone, Fig."

"Ooops," Fig winced. "My bad."

"You used to snort snuff?" Adaine asked in askance.

"Why did ya stop?" Bill questioned. Machaira turned to Adaine first.

"I went through something of a 'Fig phase' a few years ago," the tabaxi said. The self-loathing had crept back into her expression, but the heat didn't go away, so Adaine figured the subject was mostly safe. "Except I was way more out there. I was doing all kinds of drugs. I was drunk all the time. It was pretty bad." She turned to Bill. "I stopped because I was destroying my body and my mind. And it wasn't just snuff – I was on dragon spice too."

"That stuff's a little different," Bill admitted. "Dragon spice will mess ya up now." Machaira nodded in fervent agreement.

"And, honestly, after dragon spice, snuff just makes you want something harder," she shrugged, face pulled into a disgusted frown.

"I am amazed you got off of it," Bill said conversationally, taking a swig of rum.

"Took a few months to get clean," Machaira admitted. "But it's behind me now, and I feel so much better for it." The wizard remembered her friend saying something about needing to talk to Fig. Now she knew what the rogue meant.

"Is that why ya haven't been drinking at all?" Bill took another swig of rum to drive the point home.

"Ah, yes, partially," Machaira stammered a bit, staring at the table. "I am, ah, also, I'm a, well, I'm a _very_ affectionate drunk." Machaira admitted, cheeks crimson under her fur. Bill waved a hand in understanding. The tabaxi nervously scratched her mane, and Adaine couldn't help but wonder how affectionate a drunk Machaira would be. Enough that Adaine could get her to purr? Enough that she'd let Adaine scratch her mane? Her friend had even been nice enough to teach her how in the bathroom. The vague, half-baked ideas of having a happy, drunk Machaira to herself made the wizard's face warm, which was silly because she didn't even want to touch anything… interesting. Adaine met Machaira's embarrassed gaze and blushed deeper, trying to shoot the rogue a supportive look before staring at her lap, pointy ears positively burning. Maybe she'd been drinking too much herself. Yep, that was definitely it.

"So much of what you just said is illegal," Riz almost moaned.

"Now, that's an interesting point your friend brought up here," Bill began, gesturing to Riz. "And, I'm sorry, but I had a little bit of a thought about it as I say it."

"Now, papa," Fabian interrupted meekly.

"Because now I've rather – listen to me, boy," Bill hissed at Fabian, pointing harshly at him.

"I'm fascinated by this," Fig weighed in.

"Now, you just mentioned that that's illegal, right, but of course the fascinating thing about laws is that they are a fiction invented by the weak to annoy and harass the powerful."

"He's so true," Fig gushed, gesturing around the table. "Also, do the laws apply if we're in a boat, which we are now?"

"He's so true," Kristen parroted her with emphasis, staring Fig down. "Are you even listening to yourself?" Adaine, Riz, and Machaira giggled at Fig's blush.

"All I'm saying is this," Bill elaborated, leaning back and then forward over the table. "There is one law and one law only." He drew his rapier and held it aloft. "And that's the law of the blade.

"Oh, papa," Fabian moaned, rubbing his head with his hands.

"The law of the blade," Bill repeated. Fig was bouncing in her seat, tongue poking out between her teeth. "Old as war and time itself. The first thing that crawled out of the sea knew that it is kill or be killed."

"Get him bitch, yeah, get him," Fig cheered, punching her palm repeatedly for emphasis. The others all muttered various agreements or disagreements too quietly to be distinguished.

"Now, who-would-like-an-omelet," Bill asked, clapping on each word.

"Meeeeeeeeee!" Fig cried.

"Oh god, yes, please!" Machaira growled, her light, exotic accent deepening until it rippled over the gardens. Everyone else was quick to join in the omelet train.

"Ah –HAAAAAAAA," Bill yelled at the velvet curtains leading inside, which Adaine hoped was pirate for omelet. Fabian put his head in his arms and laughed, substituting embarrassment for hilarity. "So, talk to me a little bit about this battle last night. How did it go? Tell me. I' so excited. Fabian, you leapt in. You saw where the gold was. Ya put rapier to their throat and then what? Walk me through the rest."

"I, ah, well, there wasn't as much of, ah," Fabian briefly dissolved into stuttering. "I, I, ah, I, we started out separated, and so I had started out with Adaine and Machaira at the front room of the Black Pit and then I ran in and I saw all my friends. And then I uh, I dodged, I delicately dodged two werewolves." Fabian swiveled back and forth in his chair to demonstrate, earning a cackle from Fig. "And then I ran, and I smashed through a glass pane. And then I vaulted over the bar, and then I vaulted out of the bar, all the while dodging undead. And then I shot DJ Brainz with a hand crossbow. But it was actually The Ball who did most of the killing." Fabian admitted quietly.

"I was the one who gave you the business card," Riz reminded Bill.

"Right, I remember," Bill muttered gravely. "Now, someone steadily pace me through here. Now you said that you were with your young wizard and rogue friends here." He pointed at Adaine and Machaira in turn.

"Yes."

"And you ran." Fabian opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"He ran toward the fight," Adaine offered quickly.

"Yes," Fabian confirmed. "Yes, toward the fight, yes."

"Away from the wizard and the rogue?"

"Yes, well I assumed the wizard and rogue would join me, but then the wizard and rogue did not." Fabian explained.

"Alright. Now why wasn't that expressed to one another?" Bill inquired. Fabian flapped his mouth. Adaine sighed, nerves rising.

"Well, I mean, it wasn't like I ran off and left them alone," Fabian protested.

"You basically did," Machaira growled. "DJ Brainz took control of me the second he started that dubstep."

"DJ Brainz took control of you?" Kristen repeated, eyes wide.

"Wait, what?" Riz asked.

"I was out of that entire fight," Machaira admitted, glaring at the table. "I went completely feral. I couldn't even think to draw my sword."

"She did save me from three werewolves, though," Adaine interjected. "She killed three werewolves with just her claws and teeth, all by herself."

"I could have hurt you," Machaira countered.

"You didn't even try to attack me," Adaine rebutted.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't a huge liability," the tabaxi shot back. "You had to take control of me just to get me to rejoin the party."

"Yeah, I'm watching out for you," Adaine reminded her. "Just like you did for me." Machaira shot her a look that was one part shame, one part exasperation, and one part affection.

"Did you notice any of this, Fabian?" Bill asked.

"Well, I, uh, saw the rogue, Machaira, staggering around and holding her ears when the, you know, the music, ah, started; but I, uh, thought that it was, just, you know, because it was, uh, very loud." Fabian admitted. "You know, cat ears, and all of that."

"You didn't think it strange that your cat friend was reacting to the spell that made werewolves and vampires go into a rage?" Bill asked. Fabian's stuttering dissolved into nonsense syllables. "This is the second time you've left these two to fend for themselves, now, isn't it?" Fabian winced, guilt written all over his face. "Good on ye, for killing those werewolves. And on you, Adaine, for getting her under control." Bill gestured to the two girls. "But you should have tried to communicate the problem earlier, even if it was obvious." None of them had a response to that. "Where was the healer the whole time?"

"I, uh…" Kristen started. "I got caught up with a new friend. Uh, she's so cool." Kristen smiled. Bill frowned.

"Then she fell down – she was knocked out for a while," Gorgug elaborated.

"She was also a werewolf," Fabian offered.

"I'm thinking about taking a first aid class because our healer has been getting knocked out a lot." Riz admitted.

"I think I need to do that too," Adaine agreed. Fig murmured a consensus.

"Your healer has been getting knocked out a lot?" Bill repeated slowly.

"I was pretty much instantly knocked out," Kristen confessed. "And I had the craziest dream where I was on a green hill – "

"Now I am afraid I'll have to intercede here for a moment." Bill interceded. "Y'all haven't been skipping your classes at the adventuring school, have ya?"

"Well, technically I've been going to barbarian classes even though I'm not one," Fig offered.

"There are, uh, thing afoot that have been putting our, ah, studies – " Fabian started.

"Alright, look here," Bill interrupted, pounding his leg with his fist. "Walk me through here. Now why did you draw steel last night?" Everyone winced.

"They seemed scary?" Adaine offered.

"They seemed scary?" Bill echoed incredulously.

"I wasn't there, I was in the other – " Her voice failed her, and Adaine turned away.

"No, let me understand," Bill insisted. "So, your objective was to draw weaponry until it got less scary?"

"Our objective was to catch the scumbag working with the tiefling gang leader Johnny Spells," Machaira growled, red-flecked ruff rising behind her skull. Her tail tip flicked against Adaine's leg under the table. Out of all of them, she seemed the least intimidated by the pirate. Or maybe she was just being overprotective.

"No, we went in to find a dude," Kristen corrected, somehow making the statement vaguer. Bill Seacaster leaned an elbow on his knee, licking his lips.

"I want to be very clear," he whispered. "All of your work is remarkable. You walking out here all whole and healthy after having gone into the Black Pit full of vampires and werewolves – I understand that. I won't take away from it. Now there are two kinds of men in this world." He held up fingers for emphasis. Fig coughed and muttered something unintelligible. "What?"

"Ahem," she coughed again. "And women."

"That's on me," Bill admitted. "Hold on, that's on me. There are two kinds of people in this world."

"Ah, thank you," Fig coughed into her hand.

"No, no, it's alright," Bill waved away. "Thank you for correcting me. I am an old dog, but I can learn new tricks, and I speak in a little bit of an archaic vernacular." He gestured to Fig. "I appreciate you having the courage to check me on something that was honestly not alright, AND IF YOU SPEAK AGAIN OUT OF TURN, I'LL SPLIT YA' LIKE A FISH!"

"Papa," Fabian murmured in protest. Bill glared at him. "Please."

"Now," Bill began gain more calmly, holding a hand in a 'ok' sign. "There's two kinds of people in this world: them's that fight for blood, and them's that fight for gold. One who fights for blood is a dead man right away. He sees only combat for its own sake. Now those men would come to my ship, and they'd ask for crew, and they'd say 'put me in, first mate'. I'd see that their love for blood was going to put them into a grave. Soon. I have no use for dead men, only men that can make me richer."

"Now, the man who fights for gold is a man who knows why he's fighting – or a woman." He added to Fig. "And that's what matters. Also, now that I'm thinking about it, I had a clay construct on my ship, and I've also had a sort of fire energy being, and that, both of them were genderless. Both are excluded from that by being neither men nor women." Fig nodded along.

"Yeah, even people is kind of exclusive," Fig agreed.

"That's right, I've had things that weren't people," Bill agreed. "One time we had a tornado that just helped." Everyone burst out giggling.

"And did it – was the tornado part of the crew?" Riz asked.

"The tornado took part of the wealth; I hope it was part of the crew." Bill informed the goblin. Everyone began laughing and babbling. "The tornado fit right it. It came on like four or five missions with us."

"What do tornados like?" Gorgug asked.

"Gold." Bill shrugged. "That tornado was extremely slow by the end of those five missions. It was so stuffed with gold."

"A bunch of gold swirling around…" Gorgug spun a finger around.

"A bunch of gold swirling around," Bill confirmed, mimicking the motion.

"I mean I guess that's pretty dangerous," Adaine imagined. "Gold is pretty heavy and moving at a fast rate…" She mimed an object shooting past.

"No, absolutely," Bill agreed. "Every time the tornado got richer it became far more deadly."

"I mean, you said the tornado was at my third birthday party?" Fabian asked.

"The tornado, by the way, sends its best wishes," Bill told Fabian.

"Tell the tornado he can come by more often," Fabian insisted. The party fell about their chairs giggling.

"This is a wild life," Riz exclaimed.

"Alright, but papa," Fabian tried to steer the conversation back on track. "You were saying, what, did your ramblings have a point?"

"They did have a point. It is this…" Bill paused, choosing his words. "I fear no one. Death to me is nothing more than a joke. And when my time comes, I will leap into hell and kill the devil." Kristen stared with wide eyes. Riz laughed nervously. Machaira banged her fist on the table, grinning.

"Whoa, that's so metal," Fig acclaimed, pupils far too wide to be normal. "Can I borrow that for a lyric?" Gorgug and Adaine stared nervously at each other. Fabian had given up on trying to make his father seem civilized and laughed silently, rocking back and forth in his seat.

"I wonder if the devil's cooler than god?" Kristen muttered.

"Certainly," Bill exclaimed, frowning as if he didn't understand why that was even a question. "Of course."

"The devil might be my dad," Fig reminded them.

"However, the point being this," Bill returned to the purpose of the conversation. "Death is a part of every combat no matter how easy to overcome it may seem, so the way you avoid death is by knowing why you fight. You don't fight to fight; you fight to win. And winning looks like whatever your gold is. For some people the gold is gold. For other people the gold is other things."

"It's silver?" Gorgug asked.

"It's love," Adaine blurted, quickly biting her lip and staring at her lap. A tail flicked against her leg.

"Bronze," Fabian tried.

"Not bronze," Bill rejected. "But silver, yes. Love, certainly." Adaine smiled. "Some people fight for abstract ideals that can never be fulfilled within their lifetime but are still a cardinal direction that they can move in."

"Can someone else's gold be your gold?" Machaira asked.

"What?"

"Can your gold be not to achieve anything for yourself but to help other people find their gold?"

"Aye, of course." The tabaxi relaxed, shoulders dropping slightly.

"The point being this: gold is the best – what was that?" Bill backtracked, realizing that he had talked over Fig.

"I was just saying that I bet some people fight for friendship," Fig mentioned, staring at the table. Riz almost fell out of his chair laughing.

"That'll happen in its own time, doesn't need to be rushed," Bill stepped it, waving a hand at Fig then the rest of the party. Clearly Fabian had told his father something about their party. "This will grow organically. There's a process. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay, whatever," Fig blustered, red cheeks deepening to maroon. "I wasn't talking about me, losers." She kicked an empty chair.

"Please don't kick my furniture," Fabian protested. Adaine took the snuff box away and pocketed it.

"If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to run you through some drills and some training." Bill offered.

"Oh, yeah," Kristen agreed.

"Sure," Riz murmured.

"Yeah, please," Adaine added. As nervous as the prospect made her, she'd very much like not to be left alone in a fight again.

"What drill?" Gorgug asked.

"What's a drill?" Bill frowned at Gorgug.

"I know what a drill is," Gorgug murmured unconvincingly.

"Alright, we're doing this!" Bill exclaimed, rising and clapping.

"After omelets," Machaira insisted.

"After omelets," Bill agreed, instantly sitting back down.

"And, um, if you don't mind, I need to call my clients and let them know that I'll have to reschedule for tomorrow." Machaira explained, standing up and taking out her crystal.

"Clients?"

"I do yardwork on Saturdays as a, like, part time job," she explained.

"Aren't ya getting a cut of gold from your exploits with your party?" Bill asked. Machaira shook her head.

"I don't think any of us are yet."

"Well that's something ye should all fix, soon." Bill advised. "Even if gold isn't your gold, you need gold to operate in this world." Soon after omelets arrived. Apparently, the chef had a very culturally diverse background because everyone got a different omelet customized to their species. Adaine and Fabian's veggie omelets were seasoned with elven herbs while Fig's was filled with spicy peppers. Machaira devoured the massive pile of egg, cheese, and slightly bloody sausage on her plate, eyes gleaming brighter than they had in days. They spent the rest of their Saturday running drills with Bill. Anyone who tried to take out a crystal to respond to their parents' messages was disarmed of it by the pirate.

"Everyone, please stop trying to call your parents," Fabian begged after the fourth crystal was sent flying. "Alright, my father will just slap it away."

"I'm exhausted," Gorgug countered.

"You'll earn your freedom on the battlefield," Bill told them, waving them into position for the next drill. Adaine had to admit that the guy knew his stuff. Most of the drills involved keeping Fabian and Gorgug in front of the others and Kristen in the middle. Fig and Adaine were placed in the back with Riz and Machaira outside the formation circling. They also discovered that they all spoke common and elvish with the exception of Gorgug. Adaine proposed teaching Gorgug five or six important words in elven, but the barbarian didn't even understand that concept. Fig suggested that they come up with their own language to speak secretly.

"That sounds vastly complicated, and we likely don't have the time," Fabian rebutted, to which they all agreed. Bill slapped them all on the back.

"Aye, tis a good day's work," Bill praised. "I have some cars coming to take you all back to your homes. Um… do you all have a captain amongst you?"

"Yeah." Kristen pointed up.

"Unofficially…" Fig didn't finish the thought.

"I would say – " Riz began.

"God?" Kristen tried again.

"Don't try to slip into a de facto role again," Fabian shot down Riz

"No," Machaira told Kristen. "Also no." she turned to Riz.

"I think everyone thinks I'm the captain," Gorgug theorized. After a moment of silence the party laughed.

"Alright, Father, I'm here to tell you that no one thinks he's the captain." Fabian corrected.

"I don't like any kind of power concentration, so I'd prefer that we didn't have any kind of captain." Fig proposed.

"I'm happy with the democratic – " Adaine began.

"Yeah, we're something of a democracy," Fabian stole her thunder.

"Should we elect a captain?" Gorgug asked.

"I don't, do we need, is that what you're asking, are you suggesting that we need a captain?" Fabian stammered.

"I'm not – " Bill began.

"Are you suggesting that it should be you?" Kristen asked Fabian suspiciously.

"No," Fabian protested. "I mean, I'd happily do it, but – "

"No," Gorgug said quietly.

"You didn't even make captain of the team," Kristen pointed out.

"I would happily take it on," Fabian promised.

"Don't feed this," Riz told the cleric.

"I mean, if we're looking for a captain, look at this man," Fabian gestured to his dad. "And look at me, I'm his son. I can take – I can easily do it."

"No," Machaira shot down the idea.

"I will not be the captain of your teenage friend group." Bill promised.

"I don't think that," Fabian backtracked. "I was just saying we're cut from the same cloth."

"I understand." Bill assured him. "Now, perhaps this democratic system can work. Democracies function best in situations where immediate forceful action is not needed, so hopefully the democratic process will avail itself to you in these combat scenarios." The party winced and glanced about at each other. "Now, those cars are on their way. I bid you all a good evening. My darling Fabian, would you come with me for a moment?"

"Of course, papa." The Seacaster men left, and the others waited in front of the manor, conversation stilted by exhaustion. Adaine tried to stand straight and prim, but she could feel her posture suffering from exhaustion. Machaira ambled about for a bit before coming to stand behind Adaine in such a way that her shoulder was directly behind the wizard. Adaine was able to lean back against the tabaxi without being too obvious. She gave Machaira a grateful smile, noticing the design on her top button as she did so.

Adaine had seen the pictures on her jacket buttons before, but she'd never paid much attention to them. The collar button was carved with an image of a forest glade in such detail Adaine wondered if it was someplace the rogue had actually been to.

"So, scrimshaw," Adaine opened. "Not the most common talent ever. Where did you pick that up?"

"Dragon hunting," Machaira responded smoothly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Adaine asked.

"It's more common than you might think," the tabaxi chuffed. "Lots of dragons don't take care of their young. Plenty of people hunt hatchling and juvenile dragons in areas further away from the big cities. Since they're born precocial, meaning they have fully developed minds, it's more like hunting tiny adults than actual babies. If you bring one down and don't lose the body to scavengers or poachers, you have a lot of bones on your hands."

"Did anyone teach you?" Adaine asked, hoping to learn more about her home life. Machaira shook her head.

"Self-taught," she explained. "I learned draconic at about the same time too."

"You know draconic?" Machaira smiled.

"_The best part about draconic is that almost no one speaks it or expects you to speak it_," Machaira said in decent draconic. "_So, I can say things that I normally wouldn't. For instance, you look even prettier after a fight and a day of training than you usually do. You're normally quite pretty, but you're beautiful after a fight because you've lost that mask you put on the rest of the time._"

"_Thank you, you're pretty cute yourself_," Adaine responded in draconic. Machaira's face fell into stunned disbelief. The wizard leaned back against her and stared forward toward the road, a smug grin settled on her face. Fabian tore down the street on his new motorcycle, a shirtless Bill Seacaster sitting behind him, one arm wrapped around his son, sword held in the other, slashing mailboxes in half as they jumped onto the sidewalk and out of view. The remaining party members nearly keeled over laughing.

"Ok, I wasn't expecting that," Adaine admitted.

"I think the past twenty-four hours have been full of surprises," Machaira agreed. Adaine fell back against her friend, taking full advantage of her living support beam. But all too soon the rental cars came and took them to their respective homes. Adaine's parents were furious, which meant they were quiet and cold and disappointed. They made her stand in the sitting room (which doubled as the scolding room) in front of them for hours while they calmly explained how she was failing the family. Adaine never knew how they found so much material to talk to her about. Aelwyn observed this from their parents' side of the room, occasionally offering insults thinly veiled by polite advice. By the end of it all Adaine hardly had the energy to have a panic attack, flopping onto her bed exhausted, frustrated, and lonely. Her party could be loud and uncoordinated, but they were so much better than anything she had to come home to. After an hour of lying around feeling unwanted and weak, Adaine's crystal buzzed.

"Hey," Machaira's voice was like a warm drink on a cold day.

"Hey," Adaine responded. "What's up?"

"I, uh, you know, sometimes…" The tabaxi trailed away. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried your family might have been giving you a hard time."

"They did," Adaine admitted quietly. She heard fabric rustling, like a dozen blankets being tossed about. It conjured the image of a small, warm space that her friend would fill only once she was clean and soft and ready to let down her walls. It was an image that made her happy and wistful all at once.

"Do you want to talk to me about it?" Machaira asked. Adaine, still in her revolting uniform from yesterday, cheeks stained from a slow drip of tears, smiled, feeling the warmth return.

"**I used to deal drugs out of a nightclub, but now I'm a guidance counselor" – Jawbone to Gilear**

Adaine spent most of her Sunday sleeping and sulking in her room. Her family didn't want to see her, and she didn't want to see them. She spent a good chunk of her awake time thinking about how lucky Fabian was that his family showered him with love. She also thought about what Machaira had said about her being beautiful when she left the mask behind, a truly massive piece of irony coming from the tabaxi. But she still had a point. If her family wanted to treat her like she was second class when she tried to please them, then why try? Adaine had almost died AGAIN, and her parents didn't even seem to care. And if her friends liked her as she was, why not look the way she wanted, too?

Unfortunately, she didn't have anything other than faux uniforms, sleepwear, fancy dresses, and a single set of gym clothes that she would probably never wear. For the moment, she still had to go to school as a prep school reject. _That's a problem I can fix_, she thought. She wondered if this was how Machaira saw the world: problems with solutions and a clear line from one to the other. She certainly felt as if she was channeling some of her friend's spirit as she dumped that fucking crystal ball in the closet, strode downstairs, grabbed a good stack of sliced elven whey bread from the pantry, and walked out the door without so much as a word to acknowledge her family.

As much shit as she would catch for that stunt later, Adaine was beginning to see a new way forward: a scary, complicated path that involved lots of things going wrong all of the time with the most disjointed collection of misfits she'd ever known. Right then, munching elven whey bread at the bus stop, the high elf couldn't think of a better path to take. When she got off the bus, Machaira was waiting for her. Other students were throwing insults at her as they passed by, but the tabaxi remained focused on something stuck under her claw until Adaine walked up.

"No orb for me to carry?" Machaira asked, eyes widening.

"Nope," Adaine told her cheerfully, giving her friend a warm hug without the giant hunk of rock getting in the way. Machaira froze for half a second before carefully wrapping the wizard up in arms that could have snapped her in half. But when Adaine pulled away, she realized Machaira didn't look even a little bit scary to her anymore. Fierce, yes; wild, certainly.

"Someone's in a good mood today." Machaira's smile lit her face. "What's up? Did your sister fall down the stairs or something?"

"No, but a girl can dream," Adaine laughed. "I just had a bit of an epiphany about what matters to me, and what I have to do for myself. Also, who matters to me." Machaira stared at her in silence for a moment, her expression growing warmer by the second until she was beaming at Adaine, eyes radiant. Adaine wondered if this is what metal in a forge looked like, if it just grew warmer and warmer until it glowed too brightly to stare at directly.

"Good." Machaira said simply. "You look… confident, proud. Whatever decision you made, it certainly agrees with you. I'm really happy for you." The tabaxi's joy on her behalf carried over into her tone and eyes. Adaine reached over and took her hand, smooth elven skin clasping tight to calloused feline palm. She bumped her arm into Machaira's. Her family could be as aloof and disappointed as they wanted. She'd found the sun, and Adaine was determined to hold onto its warmth for as long as she could. Machaira wasn't scary; she was soothing.

That being said, when Adaine saw how many messages her crystal already had from her parents, the dread began to return. Her overnight change into a proud, confident young woman proved to be more of a temporary moral boost. Machaira didn't see this as a problem. She reasoned that if the decision to put her family's values aside in favor of her own made the elf feel better temporarily, then following through on those desires was the natural solution. The simplicity of her logic reminded Adaine of her thoughts from earlier that morning. When the rest of the party gathered together for lunch, the wizard decided to recruit her friends for help. She always felt braver with them than without.

"Guys, I, I wanted to ask you a question," Adaine began nervously. "I only have these, like, fake school uniform outfits because it's the only thing my parents will buy for me, but I was wondering if you guys could, like… help me have a makeover?" Adaine's voice trailed away toward the end, trying to flash a shy smile toward her friends.

"Oh, my god!" Kristen exclaimed. "Yes! I have like ten camp shirts, all of them different tie-dye. You can take whatever pattern you want."

"I've got a leather bustier," Fig began.

"Sounds like you guys got this all figured out," Riz said quickly, focusing on his lunch.

"Yeah, I mean, that's about that," Fabian murmured.

"I, um, all my clothes are kinda beat up," Machaira muttered, ears back and tail twitching. "But, I could like, go with you to a store or something, if you wanted."

"Yeah, no, that's what I meant," Adaine confirmed. "Like maybe we could go shopping."

"I'll give you a forty-five-gold gift card – " Fabian began.

"Forty-five gold?" Kristen asked. "We just saw you house. Your dad passed out like eight hundred gold of snuff last night.

"I'll give you a forty-five-gold gift card," Fabian repeated. "You can go hog wild with it."

"So, what is it a gift card to because that kinda limits us?" Fig asked.

"Well, all of my clothes are handmade in foreign lands," Fabian admitted. "So, I don't know where people like you buy clothes."

"I have really good taste in clothes, if you want my help," Gorgug offered.

"Thank you," Adaine told the half-orc, happy to have one of the boys actually get on board.

"As you can see I have a beautiful hoodie," Gorgug gestured.

"I'll go with you guys," Kristen added.

"Yeah, definitely," Fig jumped in. "But I'm gonna go to make sure that none of you get seduced by the consumerist lore."

"Anyway," Fabian spoke up.

"You wear clothes all the time," Adaine accused the tiefling.

"Yeah, if I didn't it'd be weirder," Fig asserted.

"Interesting though," Machaira proposed calmly, much to Adaine's amusement and Fig's embarrassment

"I'm super in," Kristen assured. "I don't just wear tie-dye. I've actually had my eye on a new hoodie." She nodded at Gorgug.

"Has anybody seen Zayn?" The barbarian asked.

"Yes, okay, that's what I was going to get on next, what about Zayn?" Fabian rushed. Everyone laughed.

"Right, Zayn, Zayn, Zayn," Adaine tried to get her mind back on track.

"He…" Riz trailed off. "Seems to be involved with the missing girls." Okay, so they had learned almost nothing from their fiasco at the Black Pit. Riz looked over at something behind Adaine. The wizard turned to see a satyr in an oversized green hoodie with a flop of dark hair covering one eye standing behind them. She and Gorgug made weird eye contact and turned away at the same time, blushing. Adaine glanced over at Machaira to see a look of delight cross her face. This had to be Gorgug's lady friend.

"Um, are you guys talking about Zayn?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah," Gorgug admitted shyly. Adaine hummed, keen to watch this play out.

"Have you seen him today?" Fabian asked.

"He didn't show up at school today," she told them.

"Do you know where he lives?" Riz asked.

"I mean, he always hangs around, uh, Cravencroft, the cemetery." She said.

"He lives there, though?" Adaine asked. "I mean, I know he's a creep, but – "

"He just hangs out there," Fabian reminded her. The fighter was making an active effort to keep his voice quiet, perhaps so that he didn't scare off the shy satyr.

"Um, I wanted to say, that, uh," Gorgug began softly. "I… still haven't learned drums yet, but…"

"What are we watching?" Fabian asked Kristen quietly.

"I think it's like watching Michael Cera talking to Michael Cera," Kristen weighed in. Adaine smiled. This was too cute.

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry I threw that guy in front of you," Gorgug finished. The half-orc was so tall that even sitting he had to tilt his head down to look at the satyr.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I, um, whatever, I, honestly, like, you know, everyone does stuff, like, you know, I don't wear pants because I'm covered in fur, but it's not, like, a thing, you can't say anything because it's all fur. I have goat legs." Machaira shifted in her seat, looking on with absolute glee.

"Are they talking to each other or are they talking down at the ground? I can't tell." Fabian whispered.

"I'm sorry," the satyr girl whispered even more quietly. "I'm sorry. It's – that's fucking stupid – "

"No," Gorgug protested. "You, I didn't mean – " She turned and fast walked away. "Ahhh," Gorgug sighed. Machaira crooned and patted his arm, sympathy heavy on her face.

"Things have been going down a lot, so I might try to steal this bad boy." Riz jerked his head toward a first aid kit on the wall, either uncomfortable with Gorgug's awkward love life or hoping to distract the half-orc with something productive.

"We could make a noise over here," Gorgug proposed timidly.

"Yeah, bang around," Riz encouraged.

"Ooh, I'll use Thaumaturgy to create a tremor, so people will think there's an earthquake." Fig suggested.

"Yeah, and I'll yell 'earthquake'," Gorgug added, excited again.

"Won't everyone run for the first aid kit?" Fabian asked.

"Are we concerned about the security crystal?" Kristen asked.

"I can cast unseen servant and have the servant go get the first aid kit," Adaine offered.

"I like this plan," Fig countered.

"Yeah, I like this one," Gorgug agreed.

"Let's do the earthquake plan then," Fabian sighed. "Go ahead."

"3… 2…" Fig could barely count down from laughing. "1!" She activated her Thaumaturgy, shaking the room.

"Tornado!" Gorgug yelled. Fig fell out of her chair laughing.

"Wrong thing," Fabian informed him.

"I mean earthquake," Gorgug corrected himself. Machaira was vibrating from the tremor and the effort of suppressing her snickers. Adaine leaned over, grasping onto the table for support. Kristen slumped forward, hiding her beet-red face from the others. As the lunch room shook, Ragh Barkrock staggered over, holding onto tables for support, and smashed Gorgug's head into the table.

"Ow," Gorgug cried.

"This guy doesn't even know what a fucking earthquake is, dude," he shouted. Ragh turned to go, stomping down hard on Machaira's tail as he passed. A sickening crunch ground out from underneath his foot. Adaine was already channeling a Ray of Sickness spell when the tabaxi's mouth stretched wide enough to swallow her head whole. Machaira screeched, wicked teeth framing a deep red gullet. Stands of saliva connected curved fangs to short, thick canines on her lower jaw. Okay, so maybe Machaira was still a little scary.

Right about then it sucked to be Ragh Barkrock. Adaine's Ray of Sickness hit that piece of shit dead on, and Ragh doubled over, spewing vomit all over the floor, stumbling as he struggled not to fall in it. The second his foot left her tail, Machaira whirled on him, claws sinking into the side of his head, ripping through his ear and down his neck.

"Don't fuck with my friends, dude," Adaine told him, standing up between the jock and her party.

"Don't fuck with my dude, friends," Ragh shot back, purple tongue dangling out of his mouth as he puked.

"That's not a thing," she protested. Machaira snarled, pulling back to her side.

"Adaine, in that commotion I stole you this coat," Kristen informed her, pushing a jacket at Adaine. "So that you don't have to wear that uniform." Adaine stared at the cleric's wide eyes and wondered if she'd gotten into Fig's snuff before remembering that she still had that in her backpack.

"I mean that's very nice of you, but you should give this back." She said to Kristen, trusting Machaira to watch Ragh for her. "Someone's gonna notice I'm wearing their coat." Kristen started trying to apologize as Fabian questioned what she was doing, creating an unintelligible jumble of noise.

"That's my hoodie," Gorgug protested. Adaine quickly passed it back to the half-orc.

"Really, that was you?" Kristen exclaimed amid raucous laughter. "I'm sorry, I've never done anything that wild before. Honestly, I feel, ah, unwell. I keep having a lot of dreams. I think I might go find Coach Daybreak just to chat."

"Ok, fine we can all agree to meet at Cravencroft Cemetery after school?" Fabian asked.

"Yeah, I'm also thinking of following up on the crystal with Zayn after school," Fig added. Kristen nodded and left. Riz came back with a med kit still attached to its wall framing, oblivious to the insanity that ensued in his absence. As Fig left to go leave a tip jar for her stepfather, the new Lunch Lad, Adaine turned to see Machaira gritting her teeth.

"You okay?" she asked. The tabaxi hissed, drawing in a tight breath through her clenched jaws.

"I think he broke my tail," she managed. Machaira held her tail in both hands, and Adaine could see the sharp, unnatural bend between her fists. "I'm gonna go to the nurse."

"You want me to come with you?" Adaine asked. Machaira stood, stumbling.

"I won't stop you," she ground out. Adaine took that as a yes and followed. Machaira's normal grace had deserted her as she staggered about the halls, clutching her tail in her hands. Adaine put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and the tabaxi gave her a grateful if humiliated look. Nurse Fatima took one look at Machaira's tail and immediately asked if it was Ragh.

"I swear, one of you is going to kill the other sooner or later," she muttered, healing Machaira's tail. Adaine could hear vertebrae crackle as they were forced back into place.

"Thanks," Machaira grunted, clutching her tail to her chest.

"You can thank me by not fighting Ragh anymore," Fatima said bluntly.

"He doesn't leave me much choice," she growled.

"That's what everyone says around here," Fatima rebuked, waving them off. Machaira let go of her tail, and Adaine scooped it up the second the hall was empty, petting her friend. Machaira's shoulders eased back, but she pulled her tail away.

"Later," she told the wizard, smirking at her like Adaine had done something funny. "You are really affectionate today. Not that I'm complaining, but still."

"I like touching you," Adaine said. Machaira's smirk grew and Adaine blushed. "I mean, your fur is soft. It's nice, and – don't pretend you don't like it!" She protested. Machaira chuckled and shoulder bumped her, tail whisking against her back before flicking away.

"I do, just not in school. Too many dickheads here to make life unpleasant."

"Like Ragh." Adaine scowled. "He's been a problem for a while now. We're gonna have to do something about that shithead eventually."

"Are you suggesting we kill him?" Machaira asked. The tabaxi didn't seem shocked or affronted, only mildly surprised.

"No," Adaine backtracked quickly. "He's a fucking douchebag, but he's still just a kid."

"Like us," Machaira pointed out.

"No, nothing like us," she denied. "But not, like, worth killing." Machaira nodded, and Adaine knew her friend would have helped her take that fucker down and hide the body if she'd asked. "Come on, fifth period starts soon. Do you wanna meet up and get like a sandwich or something at that café down the street during sixth period, before we go meet the others at Cravencroft?"

"Why, Adaine Abernant, are you suggesting that we skip the final period of our academic curriculum?" Machaira asked in a savage impersonation of her mother, clawed hand spread over her chest and eyes wide in mock surprise.

"Yep." Adaine stared at her friend, grinning. Machaira's throat undulated, tendons standing out like ropes as the rogue took a second to control herself. Adaine didn't know exactly how she knew, but she was one hundred percent sure that the tabaxi was restraining a purr. Insight class was paying off.

"Whatever epiphany you had last night, it suits you," her friend laughed, golden eyes reflecting the hall lights brightly. As they separated for their next period, Adaine felt the confidence return to her. Being brave by yourself was hard. Being brave with friends was so much easier.


	10. The Graveyard of Good and Evil - Part 2: A Series of Disturbing Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sexy rat cometh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, the subtitles and audio of this episode do not align at all. I understand that this is a slower chapter, but sometimes that'll happen in a D&D campaign.
> 
> As always, any comments about part you like/dislike more than other help me immensely. Happy Thanksgiving!

**Chapter 7: The Graveyard of Good and Evil – Part 2: A Series of Disturbing Events**

Adaine and Machaira met up with the others in the parking lot and made their way over to Cravencroft. On their way, the party walked past the grand opening of a chain bank next to the school. It smelled like paint and looked no different from any standard bank. However, insight class had proven useful before, and her instructor had said to watch for a break in patterns. In this case, the harsh red color of the sign struck Adaine as an odd choice for a business that normally uses mellow, neutral tones to de-stimulate people.

"KVX Bank," Kristen read. "Can we hop in and see if there's any free pens?"

"Or lollipops?" Fig added.

"I could use some new pens," Machaira admitted. The tabaxi's writing instruments were so mismatched that Adaine was one hundred percent sure she'd never actually bought any of them.

"Okay, why do we need anything?" Fabian asked. Machaira stared at the sidewalk. "We will just go buy better things if you want them."

"Okay, well…" Kristen seemed a little hurt that the half-elf wouldn't play along with their curiosity. Riz peered through the glass. Adaine stepped up to join him and immediately noticed a big sign that read: STORE POLICY – NO FREE PENS OR CANDIES.

"This bank sucks," she declared dogmatically. "And not in a good lollipop way." Machaira chuckled at her joke, tail whisking against her back. Fig wiggled her eyebrows and smirked in a way that suggested her mind had gone elsewhere. The tiefling and the tabaxi met each other's gaze, grinned, and giggled. Adaine rolled her eyes and restrained her own laugh. Gods, they were all so fucking dirty.

"Are we going in?" Gorgug asked. He sounded almost excited by the shit bank.

"No, let's fuck it, alright?" Kristen admitted.

"If you guys need lollipops and pens, I'll buy them for you, alright?" Fabian told them.

"Wait a second!" Fig held up the index finger of each hand. "A bank without free pens or lollipops, isn't that a little bit suspicious?"

"No," Machaira, Adaine, and Fabian said at once.

"It's just a bad bank," Adaine stated.

"No, alright," Fabian groaned. Fig tried to protest, and everyone shot her down in a jumble of voices.

"Can you do detect magic on it?" Gorgug asked.

"Did you do more of that snuff?" Kristen inquired. Adaine cast detect magic and immediately found that the place was filled with magic. A fleet of armored cars was emptying huge sacks of gold coins into the bank. She related her findings to the group.

"Do you think that this is a magical bank?" She asked.

"It's just a bank!" Fabian exclaimed. "People put money in a bank. "Why are we – do we – we don't need to read into this bank. Are you all so poor that you don't know what a bank is?" Riz laughed at their fighter's discomfort.

"We didn't get anything from Zayn," Kristen reminded them. "I just feel like we need to catch up."

"It just seems like a very cool bank to me," Gorgug protested.

"I'm very rich, but my parents are very stingy," Adaine informed them. Fabian turned around and walked off, throwing his hands into the air. Riz followed, still laughing, and the rest of them followed suit. Fig dragged Gorgug with them by his hoodie.

"It's a cool bank," he insisted, reaching out toward the bank. Though he outweighed Fig by at least a hundred and fifty pounds, the bard had more than double his will power and could lead Gorgug about without inconvenience, much to Machaira's amusement. Adaine's own humor withered as they approached the gates of Cravencroft.

Normally the cemetery wasn't a scary place, but she hadn't seen it at night before. Adaine had dark vision, but the color drain that came with it made the stark white of mausoleums and light grey of tombstones stand out too sharply against the dark sky. Adaine had never really been anywhere that didn't have some kind of artificial light at night, and the lack of it now made her markedly more nervous. Why they didn't do this in the early afternoon, she didn't know, but the diviner was regretting it now.

She drifted closer to Machaira, who wrapped her tail around the wizard's waist without drawing attention to it. Adaine placed a hand on top of the fluffy limb but didn't pet her, deciding that maybe this wasn't an appropriate time. For her part, Machaira seemed completely unruffled by their surroundings. Her eyes reflected the light at odd angles, making her swollen pupils gleam green from time to time. It occurred to Adaine that Machaira had probably spent a lot of time in areas that had only natural lighting and might even be more comfortable here.

Fig frowned, looking about the cemetery, before stiffening. Slowly, an evil grin formed on her face. Fig cast a minor illusion spell and the most nightmarish figure Adaine had ever beheld appeared. Technically, it was a rat, but no rat should ever be so sexual. The fake rodent had a long, pointed face, perfectly circular ears, a long and totally furless tail, and stiff, four-inch whiskers that curled impossibly tight at the end. With its super skinny front legs and extremely meaty haunches, the rat had only to stick its chest out and blink up at the group for horror to set in.

"Oh my god, what the fuck is that? What the fuck is that? What the fuck IS that?" Fabian cried, backing away and windmilling his arms in panic. Gorgug screamed in blind terror. Adaine could only stare, mouth open as an unnamable sense of wrongness stole over her. Machaira frowned slowly, as if she couldn't fully process what she was looking at.

"I'm a little attracted to that rat," Riz admitted.

"Yeah, she's kinda cute," Kristen added, her expression a bit too intense for comfort. "Like, for people who are into that."

"Kinda a hot rat," Riz confirmed.

"What the fuck is that?" Fabian demanded.

"Guys, be cool," Fig said in elvish.

"Zayn is an elf, you idiot," Adaine told Fig. "He will understand every word you say."

"What did you say?" Gorgug asked.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?" Fabian yelled, pointing down repeatedly at the illusory rat. The rat sauntered off through the graveyard, swaying its hips and combing a paw over its ear.

"It's got a butt," Kristen noticed, eyes glued to the rat. The rat winked at a gargoyle and started posing in the grass.

"Why did you do this?" Adaine begged. The rat began to delicately nibble an acorn, stopping to make kissy motions at things around it.

"I'm sorry, what is this? What did you do?" Fabian asked more calmly, beginning to look ill.

"Okay, guys, get in, bring it in so no one can hear," Fig urged. The party huddled up around the bard. "Zayn has his rat, and I'm trying to lure out his rat to find out if he's invisible here."

"Oooooh," Kristen nodded, still staring at the rat's ass.

"This is the most insane plan I've ever heard," Fabian told her.

"Well it's only a cantrip so…" Fig stuck out her tongue.

"Let's go to Johnny Spells's grave," Riz proposed.

"I think the rat is a good idea," Kristen assured Fig. Adaine chose to pretend the cleric's voice was not weirdly husky as she continued to stare at the rat. Out of nowhere, an enormous owl swooped down at the rat, talons spread. Machaira's head flicked up to face the bird. She instantly hissed and shot forward, clearing more than forty feet of ground before Adaine could process what she was doing. The moment the owl grabbed the sexy rat, Machaira pounced. The owl screeched, spreading wings more than four feet across only to get pinned under the tabaxi's clawed hands.

"Do not stop that owl," Fabian yelled. The tabaxi froze, hands gripping the owl's shoulders and wings, teeth restraining its head. She flattened herself to the ground, ears back, tail swishing, and stared up at the party as they surrounded her. Fabian tried to push her off the owl with a boot, but she only growled lowly, a noise they had all come to associate with dismemberment. The owl shrieked in her jaws but could not move. Fig's sexy rat moaned, putting one paw on its neck and rubbing its chest with the other.

"For the love of god, let that owl go," Fabian insisted. "It's doing the world a favor." Machaira's lips pulled back to flash more of her teeth. She seemed to be holding the owl still but had yet to actually pierce its skin. Her blazing eyes had a new edge to them, a feral hunger that was more bestial than humanoid.

"Ith mine," she insisted around the feathers. "Mm hingray!" The tabaxi's stomach rumbled for emphasis.

"What did you say?" Gorgug asked. Fig tried to free her rat, but the owl scratched her with its other foot.

"It's hers, and she's hungry," Kristen translated.

"Ah haven hunted 'n days," she growled around the bird. "Ah caugh' ith, so ith mine."

"This is ridiculous," Fabian rebuked. He reached down, and Machaira growled again, mane bristling. Her tail lashed over the grass, rustling the night air. The tabaxi didn't seem to want to kill the owl in front of them, but she was even less keen to give up her catch.

"Machaira, what are you gonna do if we let you keep it, hmm?" Adaine asked, kneeling down to meet her friend's gaze better. "Carry it with us for the rest of the night? Do you even like owl?" Machaira whined. She had assured Adaine that she never ate raw food outside of a survival emergency. Looking down at her, Adaine could see she had scored a point. Adaine neither wanted the rat to live nor did she want to watch her friend kill an owl in front of her. But she knew that this was natural to Machaira at a level she couldn't fully understand.

"Buh ah caugh' ith," she reiterated as if that was a very important point they were all ignoring. The owl struggled, and she growled, adjusting her grip to keep it motionless.

"And you did very well," Adaine assured her, half teasing. "But you need to let it go now." Machaira's growl was more of a groan this time. "I promise, we'll get better food later. But if you eat the owl, Fig's rat gets to live."

"Owl burgers," Fig suggested with a grin. Machaira whined again and jumped backward off the owl. Fabian cheered at the bird soared off with Fig's moaning rat. Riz took aim with his arquebus, and the fighter swatted it out of his hand. Machaira watched the bird fly, tail drooping as she stood.

"You're right," she told Adaine sadly. "That thing had to die."

"Hey," Fig protested.

"Thank you," Fabian said fervently. Machaira worked her jaws, white teeth flashing in the moonlight. Adaine studied her curiously.

At the café that afternoon, Machaira's ham and cheese sandwich had been mostly lettuce and tomato. Since the tabaxi hadn't eaten lunch, those two slices of ham and two slices of cheese had been her only food of the day. But Adaine suspected that Machaira had been acting on more than hunger. Her eyes were sharper than normal but more focused than in the pit. Looking at the way she followed the owl's silhouette, Adaine thought that the predator had unexpectedly snapped awake when the bird dove in. Machaira had been trying to fulfill a need that was as natural to her as the need for quiet, peace, and order was to Adaine.

Machaira had told her many tabaxi became thieves from a combination of stereotype pressure and a cultural repression of their feline attributes. Though the high elf could not imagine living a such predatory life, she had long accepted this was an innate part of her friend. Adaine cautiously stepped up to her side and placed a hand on her arm. The tabaxi swiveled her shredded ear toward the elf but remained focused on the owl. Despite her friend's deadly nature, the display summoned more curiosity than anything else. Machaira would never kill indiscriminately, but what made one creature more suitable prey than another? Why did the owl stir this wild side when the hundreds of birds and squirrels and rats that passed them by everyday did not?

Already the predatory edge was fading from the rogue's eyes. Adaine put an arm around her shoulder and smiled amiably at her, figuring Machaira's next inclination would be embarrassment. Sure enough, her friend winced and tucked her fangs under her collar.

"Sorry, I uh…" the tabaxi muttered.

"It's fine, it's fine, the rat is dead, let's move on," Fabian suggested, waving aside the incident. "Just, next time go for the rat instead, okay?"

"Deal," she muttered. Adaine gave her a little squeeze.

"That was an impressive catch," she tried, smiling timidly. The elf had no idea what passed for hunting etiquette, but Machaira turned and offered her a sheepish smile, squirming in her jacket, so the wizard assumed she had said the right thing. Machaira's tail briefly flew up to wave above her before whipping down to thump lightly against Adaine's back. The rogue bumped her arm, and Adaine snickered, enjoying her friend's struggle between pride and awkwardness.

"It was so hot, it was too hot," Fig cried. Adaine followed Machaira's gaze as the owl winged off. Adaine stiffened. Machaira straightened. Sitting around the cemetery, staring inward toward their party, were seven or eight owls. Hiding at the edges of the long grass, also watching their party, were ten or twelve cats.

"Everybody shut up," Adaine whispered. Machaira slipped around her to stand between the party and the bulk of the animals.

"Why?" Kristen and Fabian whispered.

"It was hot," the cleric insisted.

"Would you shut – " Adaine began.

"Did you see that sick – how are we supposed to come back from that shit?" Fabian interrupted.

"I need you to – " Adaine tried again.

"That owl was so sexy too," Kristen added.

"I am trying to tell you some information," Adaine pushed forward.

"That owl was not," Fabian shot down.

"That owl was a regular owl." Riz confirmed.

"The owl was like…" Kristen mimed sashaying with wings.

"There are owls and cats surrounding us right now." Adaine managed to keep calm and not explode.

"What size?" Fabian asked. "How big?"

"Like eight owls," she gestured an owl with her hand. "Owls are big. We just saw one."

"But we're in a cemetery at night," Gorgug protested. "That's normal, right?"

"No, it's not," Adaine insisted.

"That's a lot," Kristen admitted, frowning.

"They're just hanging out?" Riz asked.

"Can you do detect good and evil?" Adaine ignored Riz in favor of the cleric.

"Oh, yeah," she agreed. As Kristen cast her spell, the cats slunk away. The owls hooted and flew off as well. "Evil." Kristen confirmed.

"You should have let Machaira eat that owl," Fig grumbled. Adaine was tempted to agree. A bushy tail flicked against her calf.

"More owls than normal at Cravencroft." A voice said from the middle of their group. Kristen screamed, and they all jumped back. Machaira pulled Adaine behind her while Gorgug ducked around Fig. An eight-foot-tall, rail-thin man, maybe a hundred ten pounds, was standing in their midst. The man wore pin-striped pants, a brown suit coat, a cream button up vest, and a brown ascot, his thin pointed mustache, pale skin, sharply defined cheek bones, and widow peak black hair made Adaine pray that he was an undertaker and not an undead. His eyes, dull, milky yellow with slit pupils, reminded Adaine of the lizardman from a few nights ago.

Kristen screamed again, and everyone else followed suit.

"Aaahhh," Fabian screamed a little later than the rest.

"Huhhhhh," the undertake breathed.

"Where did you come from?" Gorgug demanded.

"Yeah, exactly," Fabian tagged along.

"I work here at the cemetery," he hushed.

"No, but you weren't here a second ago," Adaine elaborated, secretly happy to have the tabaxi between her and the undertaker.

"I walked up." He explained.

"Is it cool if I smoke here?" Fig asked.

"Yes." He responded. "We're outside." Fig lit up.

"Alright, who are you?" Fabian inquired.

"I am Sylvester, the caretaker of Cravencroft." Sylvester's voice was either dead flat or lined with a slight warning. "Dark secrets here in the cemetery. The final resting place of many of Elmville's own."

"Oh yeah?" Fig began conversationally. "I heard, uh, I head a, uh, couple of those tiefling greasers are here. I bet a lot of people have been here for that."

"No." Sylvester corrected. "Very few have come to visit those jabronis."

"It sounds like you're falling down a well," Gorgug noted.

"Also, did you say jabronis?" Fabian asked.

"That's how they referred to those whom they dismissed as lesser than." Sylvester explained. "It seems the town was only too eager to return that feeling in kind." He stared directly at Adaine over Machaira's shoulder. The tabaxi's bristling mane partially obscured his face.

"You haven't seen a real shitty looking goth kid – " Adaine started.

"Constantly!" Sylvester exclaimed, which was still very quiet. "He's always around."

"Constantly including now?" Adaine asked.

"What does he do here?" Fig added. "Does he only go to where the tieflings were buried or does he just sort of wander? Is he more here for the ambiance?"

"He kind of just hangs around," the undertaker admitted. Gorgug took a deep breath and stepped out from behind Fig.

"Hey, I just have to ask," Gorgug muttered. "It's on my mind. Everyone is gonna think this is stupid, but, uh…"

"By all means," Sylvester assured him. "There are no stupid questions."

"Are you my freaking dad?" Gorgug's eyes were huge. Fig bit her knuckle to hide her laughter. The others clamped their lips shut or briefly turned away to control themselves.

"How would that work?" Sylvester questioned. "Why would you assume that?"

"I, I mean if you were my dad you'd know how that would work." Gorgug reasoned.

"Fig, can you make another sexy rat?" Kristen asked. "I want to cast light on it because I can't see any of you, and it's getting really creepy." Riz laughed and Fabian protested. Fig tried to cast the spell and dissolved into titters.

"Why can't you cast light on your staff?" Adaine inquired.

"Stop with the sexy rat," Riz requested through his snickers.

"I've been casting light on my religious stuff, but just need to not – I need a break from religion for a little while, okay? So I'm not gonna cast light on it; I need something else, a sexy feminine rat." Fig managed to cast her spell. Kristen cast glow on the sexy rat. The glowing rat leaned back, tweaking its six nipples. For some gods forsaken reason, Fig had made the rat pregnant this time.

"Machaira, please, kill it now," Fabian gasped.

"I am not touching that thing." The tabaxi held her hands up in surrender and stepped back.

"Uhhh, not the normal ambiance of this place," Sylvester said, leaning back from the rat. "Somehow more disturbing in its provocative… I don't like you children. To answer your question, I could not be your father. My junk was all messed up in a bicycle accident."

"Christ, alright, mister Sylvester," Fabian addressed the undertaker.

"Alright, wait, have you – " Riz interrupted.

"Hey, wait," Fig interrupted Riz's interruption.

"Have you talked to the goth kid?" Riz interrupted Fig's interruption.

"Bicycle as in motorcycle?" Fig interrupted, eyes half-narrowed in interest.

"Goth kid," Adaine pressed.

"No, a regular – " Sylvester began.

"He's no one's dad!" Riz exclaimed.

"No, I was trying to figure out if he was – " Fig started.

"I bet you ride one of those bikes that has a big front wheel," Gorgug cut her off happily, making air circles with one finger.

"Yes, a velocipede, that's right," the undertaker confirmed, mustache twitching up with the first trace of a smile that night.

"Have you talked to that goth kid ever?" Riz was almost crying.

"The seat fell off, and I tried to sit down – " Sylvester swept on. Kristen and Fig were rocking around giggling. The rat continued to pull at its nipples.

"Hello, Mr. Sylvester?" Fabian interjected.

"Yes?" He whirled on the fighter.

"My name is Fabian, Fabian Seacaster," the half-elf began as per his normal greeting.

"What exactly happened to your junk?" Kristen circled back.

"Oh my god," Fabian moaned, putting his head in his hands. Fig staggered about the graveyard cackling. Machaira's body trembled with the effort of restraining her laughter. Adaine's refined mask cracked, a smile poking through as she shot a sidelong glance at Kristen. Their cleric was being weirdly sexual tonight.

"Doctors still don't know how it got all jumbled up in there." Sylvester informed her calmly. Fig heaved for air. Machaira finally broke. The scout staggered back into a tombstone and then forward into Gorgug, clinging to the half-orc's arm for support as she gasped for breath. Fabian leaned his elbows on a tombstone and crossed his fingers, resting his nose on his hands and staring forward like he could not see a way forward past tonight. The rat stroked its pregnant belly. Adaine's vision swam with unshed tears at this bizarreness, her body quivering as she tried not to giggle at Sylvester's horrible accident.

"Hi, Riz Gutgak," the goblin tried for the Fabian approach. "Have you ever spoken to that emo kid, goth kid?"

"Zayn Darkshadow," the undertaker guessed, voice hushing with grim import. The party nodded, reigning in their chuckles. "Many times did he wander this cemetery, dancing to his Walkman and saying poetry to the headstones. I… asked him to leave a bunch of times, and he never did."

"Did he talk to dead people?" Riz asked.

"Did he know the speech of the dead? Yes, why he spoke to them all the time." Sylvester confirmed gravely.

"Did they, like, was it actual conversation?" Gorgug asked.

"I do most of the talking," Sylvester began.

"Is Zayn Darkshadow his real name, or is his name actually like… Jeff Spratt?" Adaine inquired, positive that this guy was more theater than threat.

"Zayn Darkshadow named himself," Sylvester confirmed.

"Of course he did," Adaine muttered, shaking her head. The other murmured agreements.

"When he sued for emancipation from the foster system," the undertaker finished. Adaine cringed. Machaira flinched and hissed, tail rustling against the lawn as she stepped away.

"Awwww, that's sad," the wizard admitted, guilt biting at her.

"You guys feel like a bunch of assholes now," Sylvester rebuked.

"I don't," Fabian denied.

"I just have a question," Adaine tried.

"Judging a poor kid," Sylvester carried on.

"I have a question," Fig spoke up, taking a pull from her cigarette. "Do you know what songs he liked to listen to when he was walking around and singing along with his Walkman?"

"It involved a lot of him making two fists and rotating them around each other clockwise – "

"Kind of like a cabbage patch situation?" Gorgug asked. Adaine didn't get the reference. Kristen tried to mime the action, but Sylvester very animatedly demonstrated himself.

"Kinda like this." The undertaker danced to the right. "And then like that." He boogied to the left, surprisingly limber for his frame.

"EDM?" Kristen supplied.

"Yes, ethereal dance music," Sylvester confirmed. Adaine still didn't know what they were talking about or why.

"Have you seen him today?" Fabian questioned. "Or have you, have you, you seen him recently?" The strange man drew in a long, rattling breath.

"I have – no, wait, what… that was Friday…" He trailed off, clucking his tongue.

"Did you see him today?" Gorgug reiterated.

"I did not see him today. I know where the young lad lives."

"Oh," Adaine exclaimed.

"That would be great," Riz told him.

"If you wish to visit his dwelling place, he lives down the street this way." Sylvester pointed toward the other end of the cemetery with two fingers. "Five blocks. There's a deli, and he lives above the deli in an apartment that the state paid for when he sued for emancipation. He lived by himself. He had a sad life. Yeah, that's right." The undertaker seemed determined to make them feel sorry for Zayn.

"Wait, are you saying that in the past?" Adaine challenged. Machaira's ears pointed forward, mane bristling. "Why are you speaking in the past tense?" Adaine studied Sylvester closely, searching for any signs of deceit, but he appeared to be nothing more than a creepy old ma. Gorgug frowned, reached out, and batted at his arm.

"Zayn was." Sylvester said ominously. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew an icy white pearl, arcane mist swirling around inside it. "This was jet-black. Zayn gave it to me and said if it were ever to turn icy white, that would mean he had passed from this mortal realm."

"Why was he concerned with you knowing if he had passed?" Fig asked.

"He really wanted me to like what he was up to," Sylvester answered.

"Uh, excuse me, might we – " Fabian started softly.

"Can I see that pearl?" Fig asked.

"Sure." Sylvester flicked it to the bard with his thumb.

"Thank you," Fig said, pocketing the pearl.

"Wait, give it to me," Adaine requested, holding out her hand. "I'll cast identify on it."

"Maybe when we're not with him," Fig whispered in elvish, jerking her head toward the undertaker.

"Alright," Adaine whispered back. Then, louder, "It seems like everybody in this town has daddy issues."

"I don't," Sylvester countered in elvish. "I talk to my father all the time."

"Is he dead?" Gorgug asked.

"Me too," Fig nodded. "Sorta."

"Well, really everyone – " Kristen began. Sylvester pulled a cape out of nowhere, slung it in front of his body and the lower half of his face, turned, and stalked off into the graveyard. Fig handed the pearl to Adaine, and the high elf cast identify on it.

_Ah yes, a pearl of life_, the nerdy, annoying voice of the identify spell spoke from the back of her mind. _This is a minor and rather common magical item, used by necromancers to mark the passing of those who have been attuned to the pearl. The pearl, given the jet-black state, will mark the living status of that it has been attuned to. Upon turning icy white, the pearl has marked that user's passage into the Underworld, usually through a process known as death. The pearl is worth almost nothing and is often traded as sort of friendship tokens by necromancers from one to the other. This has been the identify spell._ Adaine relayed the information, silently regretting that somewhere deep down she was really that lame.

"Can you ask if its reusable?" Kristen asked.

"Or ask if it was attuned with Zayn or someone else?" Fig proposed. Adaine stared at the pearl. There, swirling in the icy mists, was Zayn Darkshadow's dead body.

"Oh god, guys," Adaine moaned quietly. "I think he's dead. I mean, I guess there's a possibility that he entered into the Underworld and didn't die, and he's on some kind of weird, like…"

"Let's go to his apartment?" Fabian suggested. The rest of the party agreed. On the way there, Adaine reached out toward Machaira and found a fluffy tail jumping up to meet her hand as the tabaxi allowed her to wrap the limb around her waist. Fig texted Zayn's number on Johnny's crystal, hoping that whoever killed Zayn would have it. They didn't receive a response. They entered Elm Valley, a suburban region of ticky-tacky homes and small businesses. Riz picked the lock on a metal grate door over a dark entrance way up to an apartment over a small, musty deli. The entrance way was lined with spider webs and only lit with a black light because of course it would be. The apartment itself was a one room dwelling without so much as an adjoining bathroom. Instead, a toilet sat in the corner. The apartment was also lit by a black light.

"God, this black light is showing up so much cum," Adaine observed without enthusiasm. Machaira snorted.

"No one should ever use black lights," the tabaxi hypothesized. "If you're going to be horny, then be horny and smart." Adaine grinned at the last part.

"Yeah, is that what that is?" Kristen asked.

"I think so," Adaine regretfully confirmed.

"Definitely." Machaira's voice left no room for argument. "What?" She defended when the others stared at her. "I can smell it whether I want to or not. Every time someone cums they reek of sex for hours after, days if they don't shower."

"So, if say, one of us were to masturbate…" Kristen began casually.

"I know." Machaira said, calm but unexcited. "I know every. Single. Time. And I have never nor intend to ever say anything. Ever." She stared with meaning around the party, giving Fig an extra hard glare. Adaine noticed that Machaira very intentionally did not look at her. "But for god's sake, please, wash up after." They all laughed nervously and glanced away, universally blushing.

"God, that must be awful," Kristen said, shuddering.

"Usually, yes," she admitted. "But some people smell good when they're horny. Really handy if you're looking to pick someone up." Machaira smirked exaggeratedly, and the party laughed more easily. _You learn most of what you need to know about someone from their smell_, Machaira had told her their first week of school. Never had Adaine appreciated her friend's discretion more than at that moment. While Adaine appreciated that the tabaxi had been careful not to draw attention to her, the elf still blushed. A tiny voice in the back of her mind wondered if the tabaxi liked how she smelled.

The party had been so distracted by Zayn's cum that it took them a second to notice that the place had been ransacked. Broken furniture lay scattered about. The bed had been torn and strewn across the room. Drawers hung out of dresser, books opened and their pages disseminated around the apartment. Looking about the pages, Adaine found a collection of well-kept ritual material: star maps, instructions for ceremonies involving stages of the moon, especially the new moon, and a text beginning with the date of All Hallows Eve.

"Oh god," she muttered, picking up the charts. "He has a very specifically this… Hallows Eve spell." Adaine could not for the life of her remember the other name for the holiday. With a start, she realized that this was for the last year's date and not this year's. She also felt the lingering presence of a spell. Focusing her own magical energy, Adaine realized that a press the digitation spell had been used to clean blood from the scene.

"He opened the door," Kristen said, looking down at a cage that probably housed Zayn's rat. "But the cage was still moved. Guys… I think Zayn let his rat out during the fight and not before."

"That's not the worst of it," Riz grunted, wiggling out from underneath the bed. "Look." The goblin held up a pill bottle and a sheet of paper. "These are cosmetic pills. They keep your body temperature icy cold. Contains ghoul blood but they're not evil. This, on the other hand…" He held up the sheet of paper. "This is Johnny Spells's contract with his patron, Gorthalax the Insatiable." Fabian looked over from where he'd been lounging against the wall, nose crinkled in disgust at the room.

Comparing the star map and ritual sheets to the contract, Adaine realized that Zayn had managed to reverse engineer the spell that Johnny used to become a warlock. She also understood that having this contract, however he got it, would have given the necromancer immense control over the tiefling. Looking at the papers before her, Adaine felt a cold trickle run down her neck, a formula falling into place. The ritual had to take place on All Hallows Eve during the new moon, so if she aligned the star maps… Adaine's finger flew across constellations, years of arcane tutelage welling up as she formed a precise location of where the ritual took place.

"I know where Zayn did it," Adaine said, explaining her findings to the others. "I also think we should call your mom dude, because there was a lot of blood in this room that's been cleaned up, so somebody has been here after whatever happened, and like…" She trailed off, uncomfortable about what had happened with what she now knew about Zayn. "Something went down. Just… give me a few minutes to figure out, like, the name of the spot where Zayn did this ritual." She pulled up a map of Elmville on her crystal and set about realigning the star maps.

"The weapon…" Gorgug started slowly, touching a split in a chair. "The weapon that did this was a, a two-handed, like, slashing weapon, like a great axe." He touched the axe over his shoulder. "Did I do this?"

"It's that freaking," Fig stuttered, grinding her teeth. "It's that freaking barbarian teacher." Adaine turned her attention back to her project.

"Is there any corn evidence as they call it in the Riz-ness," their goblin asked.

"Uhg, never say that again," Fabian begged.

"The Riz-ness?"  
"Never say that again," Fabian repeated.

"I'm sniffing around for corn," Riz objected.

"I'm trying to save you," Fabian shot back.

"What about The Ball-ness," Fig suggested with a leer.

"No," Kristen said simply.

"He had necromancy notes on summoning," Riz said after a minute, going through pages. Adaine had pushed aside. "Religious footnotes on things like the corn ooze, but most if those parts have been ripped out."

"Should we text the crystal one more time and see if we hear, like, a sound?" Kristen suggested.

"'Tomorrow night, jazzy?'" Fig sounded out as she texted. No noise or light revealed the crystal.

"I would like to throw out there that Porter had a great hammer," Fig mentioned, miming a hammer.

"But that's not a slashing weapon," Adaine shot down mildly, still focused on her work. Gorgug started stammering out something, but Riz spoke over him.

"How was your conversation with the old coach there, coach Daybreak?" He asked Kristen.

"It was… not good. We just talked about religious shit."

"What does he wield?" Fig asked.

"I think I know, like, I think I know another person that could be killing," Gorgug tried again. "I think that it could be, uh, the guy from the team that keeps bullying me."

"Yeah," Adaine gasped from the floor, making another note on the edge of a map.

"But we know that one of the faculty was involved," Fig reminded them.

"But that doesn't mean students aren't also involved," Adaine countered.

"What if it was that big mean kid?" Riz asked, gesturing to Gorgug. "He's a barbarian. What if the kid and Daybreak work together?"

"What about Porter?" Fig repeated.

"We should just check out the whole team," Gorgug proposed.

"Wait, you're right, because, this guy, he, um…" Kristen stared off, snapping her fingers.

"He was at the field?" Gorgug tried.

"He knocked into me when that – he knocked into me when my bible went into the corn."

"Yes," Adaine exclaimed, looking forward to another chance to cast Ray of Sickness on that motherfucker.

"And then that bully hit you right afterwards when we were in line to get lunch, like, day one, remember?" Kristen said. Adaine sat up from her work, eyes hard and mouth wide as a harsh thought tore through her brain.

"That bullying is a smokescreen for much worse things," she theorized.

"That boy is much too stupid to get into a kind of plan like – " Fabian began to sneer.

"He's the muscle," Riz interrupted.

"That's why they have him," Fig agreed.

"But he can be stupid – but, I mean, I'm here." Gorgug said. For a second they all stared at him.

"Okay, do not, do not," Fabian shook his hand in a _cut_ motion. "Do not put yourself at his you're not the – "

"You're not stupid," Adaine told him. Machaira stalked over from her silent corner and gave Gorgug a huge bear hug, pressing her face into his chest.

"Don't you ever say that," the tabaxi mumbled against him, trying to sound fierce through a mouthful of sweatshirt.

"Do not dare do that to yourself, alright," Fabian rebuked sternly, pointing at Gorgug.

"You're great," Fig assured him, putting a hand on the half-orc's shoulder.

"You're really smart and a really good dresser," Kristen promised.

"You're so much better than Ragh," Riz said. Machaira flicked her tail up over his shoulder, squeezing the barbarian as hard as she could. Adaine glanced back at her maps and put the last piece into place.

"This ritual happened east of the Marigold River and high up to see the stars above the city's light pollution." Adaine announced.

"Durinson Mithral Factory," Fig concluded with a grin.

"Yup." Riz nodded.

"It could be," Adaine agreed. "It's high up in the mountains. It's east of the river."

"It also seems like somewhere Zayn would hang out: an abandoned factory." Fig reasoned.

"I mean, it could be," Adaine said hesitantly, afraid that if it wasn't the factory they would think she had done something wrong. Or worse, that she actually had done something wrong. "There's also the top of the Strongtower Luxury Apartments, but that's not as goth." Adaine felt her chest constrict, breaths coming in quicker as she realized that her friends were now basing their decisions on her arcana knowledge. _Were_ her calculations correct? She thought so, but there was no way to be sure. Oh god, what if she was wrong? She'd never been as good at this at Aelwyn. Would her friends believe her again? What if she sent them to the wrong place because she was too stupid and bad at magic? What if –

An arm came around her shoulder. Adaine glanced up to see that Machaira had left Gorgug to sit next to her. In the dim black light, her fangs and eyes gleamed sharply, the lines of her skull dangerous. But her expression was soft and encouraging. Adaine felt herself latch on to her friend's languid movements as the rogue scooted to her side and butted the wide crown of her skull against Adaine's cheek, her muzzle scraping over the wizard's shoulder as the tabaxi twisted into her. Her muzzle and face was a block of bone and muscle, but the motion was friendly in a rough sort of way, like their shoulder bumps. Machaira nuzzled her again, completely unconcerned by the murder scene around them, tail flicking into Adaine's lap.

Adaine smiled despite herself. Machaira's muzzle tickled as it scraped over her shoulder. She took hold her friend's tail, petting her fur flat with a sigh. She hadn't noticed how cold the room was until she had Machaira pressed against her side, warming her like a breath of summer. The tension eased out of her chest, and Adaine drew a deep, relaxing breath.

"You got this," Machaira murmured, voice full of support. Her gaze was soft, proud, and relaxed. Adaine took a deep breath. She was good at magic. She knew it. Adaine cuddled into the half embrace and looked back at the pages.

"The ritual calls for the performer to actually see the stars," she confirmed. "Okay, I think it's the abandoned mithral factory."

"Guys, I have a thought." Fig spread her hands and didn't finish.

"What is it?" Riz asked.

"Is it another sexy rat?" Adaine, Machaira, and Riz asked simultaneously.

"Why are you laughing?" Gorgug asked.

"Well, 'cause it's like a leap, maybe, eventually, I'm just saying if we threw a party at the Durinson abandoned factory – "

"Yes, yes," Kristen agreed hastily.

"No we should just go and investigate it. Why would we throw a party there?" Adaine asked.

"Maybe we should just go there." Riz agreed.

"What if we pretend that we're gonna throw a party there," Kristen compromised.

"We don't need the factory to have a party," Machaira countered.

"Why don't we just go, and maybe we'll throw a party if it's cool there," Riz tried to reason.

"A party planning investigation?" Adaine asked.

"Yes, let's see if it's worthy of having a party there," Fabian said with an eye roll.

"Did you make this rat?" Kristen asked Fig, holding a rat in her palms.

"What?" The tiefling asked.

"Did you make this rat?"

"No, that one's just sexy on its own," their bard cackled. Kristen dumped the rat. Adaine sighed and gave Machaira's tail a good scratch, sinking against her friend. The tabaxi briefly rested her jaw on top of Adaine's head and chuffed, rubbing her arm. Resolve to continue strengthened, Adaine stood, pulling away from her friend and tuning in properly to Riz's discussion about the cosmetic pills that mimicked death.

"Wait, look at the pearl again," Gorgug requested.

"Pearl is still white," Fig reported.

"Oh, never mind," Gorgug said, looking down.

"No, but that's the right idea," Adaine protested.

"See, it's moments like that that show that you're smart," Fabian insisted.

"But I'm normally wrong," Gorgug countered.

"So?" Machaira challenged. "You think and apply yourself to discover possibilities." Now that Adaine was ok, the tabaxi walked back to Gorgug to pat his arm.

"You have really good instincts," Adaine insisted.

"Yeah," Fig agreed, patting Gorgug's other arm. Before they left the apartment, Adaine cast unseen servant to clean their fingerprints off the crime scene. Riz called in an anonymous tip from Zayn's crystal. As this went down, Machaira stood in the corner of the room, watching. Adaine walked over to join her.

"Hey, you were pretty quiet back there," the high elf noted. "You okay, or are you still embarrassed about the owl?" The tabaxi shook her head.

"No, I'm still hungry, but I don't think I made TOO big of an ass of myself with the owl," Machaira moderated. "I didn't have a lot to add to this arc of our search. Besides, I was enjoying the show."

"Show?" Adaine questioned. Machaira turned and gave that look, like the wizard was something incredible she couldn't fully figure out.

"Sometimes, when you get really into something and you stop doubting yourself, you get this look in your eyes. I can see the gears turning in your head, almost watch the thoughts fly by. But I never know exactly what your strategy is or where you're going. And I'm always amazed by the results, even when you're doing something simple. The way you look at the world and understand it, all the little complexities… it's astounding." Machaira tilted her head, warm gaze flitting over her face before settling on her eyes. "I can never even come close to seeing the world the way you do and understanding how it fits together. But I love to watch you solve a problem, because the way your mind works is beautiful."

The tabaxi was so calm and earnest, Adaine couldn't doubt she meant every word. The high elf blushed and looked away, smiling at her shoes. She muttered something that was meant to be 'thank you' but came out so soft and hoarse that she wasn't sure if Machaira could hear it. She looked up to see the familiar fanged-smile and relaxed, trying to put her appreciation into her own smile. When they left the apartment, Kristen cleared her throat and began to speak, divine power pouring into her voice.

"Okay, I'm just gonna let you know that I'm feeling, for the first time in my life, really dry. Usually I have so much passion for this, but ever since meeting Helio and him, just, like, refusing to answer the number one question on my mind – "

"It's gonna get inspiring soon," Gorgug promised Fig.

"Has just left me feeling kinda, like," their cleric continued, screwing up her face. "Tasteless, or like gray?" Fig winked, and a glow of bardic inspiration settled over Kristen before being swallowed by the redhead's speech. "Uhhh, this isn't really me, but, uh, we can do it, and, uh, I'm so glad I'm alive and I was thrust into this kooky puzzle for what, fifteen years of my life? What the hell is that?"

"Did she just call life a kooky puzzle?" Gorgug whispered to Fabian.

"What is she talking about?" Fabian whispered back.

"To be sent to…" Kristen stumbled. "It's like I'm stuck in the middle of the desert starving with only canned food and no can opener."

"Well," Adaine began.

"I thought this book was a can opener, but it's not!" Kristen exclaimed, eyes wide and teeth clenched in a freaky smile.

"It's hard for me to…" Adaine knew she had to choose her words carefully here. "…completely empathize, because I am immortal." Kristen nodded. "But I would say that, um, life is for the living."

"Oh, wait, you know what's funny about that?" Kristen said. "My whole life I've been living for the afterlife. Everything has been about the afterlife. And I don't think that's even coming. And you know what, I might be in love with a woman! And that's great."

"Oh, that's cool," Adaine assured her. The party muttered agreements. "We're fine with it."

"Noooo," Kristen rejected. "You don't know my parents. My parents would like send me away where, like, I pray the gay away. Do you know how crazy that is?" She jumped up into Fabian's face on the last sentence.

"Uh, Kristen, here's the good news, is that with all this corn stuff going on, your parents might be evil," Riz proposed.

"I used a corn to masturbate the other night!" Kristen rushed. Fig gasped. Gorgug and Fabian leaned away. Riz sighed and turned back to the street.

"Oh my god," Adaine exclaimed. She did not need to know that. Based on her grimace, Machaira didn't need to be reminded.

"I was deep online," Kristen told them. "There was a reddit post with tips for new lesbians." Gorgug raised his hand. "What?"

"I'm just losing it," he admitted. They all burst out laughing. Adaine, feeling significantly better about her own life by comparison, smiled at Machaira. The tabaxi seemed to be deep in thought, eyes fixed on some point on the middle distance. The elf drew back and gave her hand a squeeze. Machaira started a bit.

"You okay?" She asked. The tabaxi studied her face.

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head. "Just letting myself get confused." Machaira smiled back at Adaine and squeezed her hand back. "I'm fine. After all, I have you watching out for me."

"Always," the wizard promised. Machaira's smile fully reached her eyes, chasing the last of her moodiness away.

"Guys, my motorcycle has been to the Durinson Mithral Factory," Fabian announced, tapping his head. "What business would you have there, motorcycle?" Pause. "Johnny Spells used to go there."

"Oh my god, thank you, that means we're going to the right place." Adaine gasped. Machaira squeezed her hand tighter.

"Of course we are," the scout asserted. Her faith in Adaine's abilities was at once daunting and emboldening.

"Oooh, his benefactor is at the Durinson Mithral Factory," Fabian related.

"Oh god," Adaine groaned. Machaira hissed.

"Gorthalax the Insatiable?" Kristen asked.

"Daddy?" Fig questioned.

"Was it Gorthalax the Insatiable?" Fabian spoke aloud. "Oh, Gorthalax, yes." A pause. "He used to meet Gorthalax at the Durinson Mithral Factory, where we're going right now."

"Oh, fantastic," Adaine groaned.

"Least we know what we're getting into this time," Machaira said cheerily, stretching. Now that the threat of violence was upon them, the tabaxi was totally fine.

"My motorcycle is going to meet us there," Fabian informed them. As they began to enter the rundown area of town near the factory where a large dwarven community lay, Kristen stiffened.

"Guys, they know we're coming," she said, pointing up. Adaine glanced up to see a flock of owls wing above them.

"Should we go tomorrow night?" Fig asked. "Because right now everyone knows we're coming."

"How?" Kristen asked.

"The owls," Fig reminded her, frowning. They decided to keep going, staring ahead to the red brick towers and chemical vats designed to process mithral, perched on a cliff over a quarry.

"You guys looking for a party?" The driver of the rental car asked.

"We're scouting for one," Fabian told him.

"Oh, this is a good place then," the driver said.

"Do you bring lots of people up here for parties then?" Fig asked.

"No, hardly nobody, it's bad up here. Alright." The driver turned and drove away.

"Hey, thanks for paying again," Kristen murmured.

"Of course," Fabian waved away. "You people need money for shirts." Adaine stared at the fighter. Did he not spend money on clothes?

"I'm gonna take that as a sweet thing," Kristen decided. Fabian's motorcycle roared up to the gate, hellfire streaming in its wake.

"Oh, hello Hangman," Fabian greeted.

"Master," it growled.

"Oh, big loud motorcycle," Riz muttered. Kristen leaned over the edge of the cliff, peering down. Fig pulled her back. Adaine peered through the chain link fence. It sounded like a group of people were speaking dwarven in the factory. She cast comprehend languages, surrounding her head in letters and runes of every language.

"Sick grind, brother," a dwarf cheered.

"Aye, it was," another responded. "Oh, drop in, drop in, shreeeed!"

"Guys, I think there's a bunch of skaters in there," Adaine said without enthusiasm.

"Okay, well, that's fantastic," Fabian said with a grin.

"That sounds awesome," Fig stated.

"Sounds better than demons or zombies or something," Fabian agreed.

"Oh, yeah, no, skaters are cool," Adaine said, probably too quickly and loudly to be convincing. Gods, she was out of her depth here. Machaira snorted but did not call Adaine out on her lie.

"Motorcycle," Fabian addressed the hell beast. "How far did you go into the factory with Johnny Spells, or did you stop here?"

"All the way in, master," the Hangman told him.

"Can you lead the way?"

"Yes!" The motorcycle backed up, revving at the gate.

"I love this motorcycle," Fabian declared. The motorcycle blasted through the chain link fence. Riz put his head in his hands. Fabian applauded.

"Good show, motorcycle," he shouted.

"I have killed the fence," the Hangman announced. The sound of skateboards stopped ahead.

"Why don't we leave the motorcycle behind for a second?" Riz ground through his teeth.

"The motorcycle knows better than any of us where to go," Fabian shot back.

"I feel like it's… a dumb motorcycle," Gorgug disagreed. Fabian started arguing with him.

"Those who tread here in this, the hall of our fathers, and our fathers' fathers, ya' have made yourselves known," a voice yelled in common but with a heavy dwarven accent.

"They – " Adaine began.

"Show us your face."

"Super know that we're here." She finished. Machaira flexed her claws.

"No time like the present," the rogue reasoned, moving forward. Riz slunk away to hide.

"I'm here to skate," Fig called back. As they approached the destroyed interior of the factory, where multiple floors were visible from mass collapsing of walls and roofs, Fig conjured an image of a skateboard over her shoulder. A bunch of stocky, bearded dwarves stood on the different levels, weapons drawn and ready. They all wore baggy jeans, big t-shirts, and thick sneakers that made them look even smaller somehow. All had stone and steel skateboards carved with harsh dwarven runes.

A half-pipe lay on the cliff edge outside the collapsed wall, and another lay inside the building. Rivers of bubbling green liquid cut across the clifftop, sizzling channels through the clay. One of the dwarves had a crystal tied to his helmet while another held a crystal in one hand. Fabian had mounted his motorcycle. Fig kept trying to stand at the front, but Gorgug kept trying to stand in front of her so that the two were constantly jostling for a position at the front. Kristen hid behind them both.

"Who now approaches this, the ancient halls of the Durinson Mithral Factory," menaced the dwarf with a crystal on his helmet. "Where our fathers and our fathers' fathers worked long days so that we might come here – "

"And skate?" Gorgug asked.

"What?"

"And skate?" he repeated louder.

"Yeah, we skate." He confirmed.

"Awesome," Fig told him.

"We just heard that you were really cool," Adaine tried, smiling as if she wasn't nervous and worried and probably failing miserably again.

"Yeah, we're just fellow lovers of speed," Fig began.

"And fans," Adaine stressed, hoping they wouldn't make her get on a skateboard if she stuck to that idea.

"We're thinking about starting a streetwear company, and we needed like real people to model for it." Kristen said. Adaine wished, just once, their cleric could shut up and let someone else talk. "Sorry," she whispered. "It's the new me. Just big lies coming out of my mouth!"

"You're starting a street wear company?" he dwarf repeated.

"Well, fellows," Fabian took over. "It's not that simple. We're trying to understand the culture of the street that we might then base wear upon it."

"He's the money," Adaine explained quickly.

"Yes, I'm the money," Fabian agreed.

"I'm the creative." Gorgug declared quietly. Fig couldn't hold in her laughter. Kristen bit her knuckles.

"Yes, he's the creative," Fabian played along.

"The one creative," Kristen clarified through her cackles. Machaira sighed quietly and placed a hand on her saber, thumb claw sliding it up just enough that the hilt wouldn't catch on a quick draw.

"Ye each speak half of a different story," the dwarf very reasonably noticed. "Do not use your words lightly around those of the dwarven folk." The dwarf pointed his ax at Fabian.

"Hey, my man, please," Fabian protested. Gorgug nearly fell over laughing.

"My man?" Adaine asked, wondering if Fabian was even listening to how these dwarves spoke.

"I'M A GIRL!" The dwarf roared. Shit. Well, Adaine couldn't blame Fabian for that one since she certainly hadn't noticed either.

"Oh, cool," Kristen commented.

"I'm a girl!" The dwarf repeated. "My name is Torek Railgrinder!"

"Cool," Kristen tried again.

"Very cool," Fabian added.

"I have shredded these halls and dropped into half-pipes deeper and more fearsome than any dwarf before me." Torek bragged.

"Dude, I would love to see you do this," Fig admitted, pulling on a cigarette. "This sounds fucking awesome, and I'm here to spectate."

"See this?" The dwarf hissed. "You have seen your last. Drive out the invaders!"

"What?" Gorgug asked.

"She said 'drive out the invaders'," Adaine whispered to him.

"Oh, thanks," he whispered back.

"Crush! Crush! Crush! Crush!" The dwarves chanted.

"The owls went to go get someone," Kristen whispered to the others. "The clock is ticking!" The exterior half-pipe began to move, tilting backward as an enormous pavement golem emerged beneath it, composed of magic asphalt and striped with road markers, arms edged with highway rails. Machaira growled excitedly behind her. As Adaine and the others readied their spells, the wizard took comfort in having her friends at her back. Blue spell energy filled her eyes. This time, no one would have to save her.


	11. Havoc on the Half-Pipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adain'e most impressive feats to date and devil daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this took so long everyone. The next chapter will no doubt take longer. As always, I'd love to have some feedback. I cannot stress enough how helpful it is. Lots of fluff and angst to come!
> 
> Also, I am sorry for the slower update speed. Life's been happening

**Chapter 8: Havoc on the Halfpipe**

The golem steadied itself, dust falling off its back in sheets. Adaine tensed, spell energy building, when a gunshot cracked over the dwarves' chanting.

"Crush! Crush! Crush! Cru – eh!" Torek cut off as a bullet pinged off of her ax. Riz was smart, Adaine reflected, but his aim was not great.

"I think she's controlling the golem, maybe," Riz yelled in elvish from somewhere behind a stack of pallets. "Who knows. We'll find out." Adaine reconsidered how smart Riz was.

"Huh." Fig responded drily.

"What did he say?" Gorgug asked.

"He said he thinks she controls the golem, I don't know," Adaine whispered to him, wondering why Riz thought that information was anything less than obvious since Torek had summoned it. "Guys, go for the gold, remember?" Adaine addressed the group at large. "We're not here for blood, we're here for gold."

"We're here for gold," Fabian agreed.

"Oh, good call," Kristen seconded. Machaira shifted next to her, growling with what Adaine had come to learn as reluctant agreement. Adaine felt a tiny knot ease in her gut. She wanted to find out what Zayn and Johnny had been doing here, but these dwarves were just kids. She couldn't imagine them ending up like Doreen. Forcing that thought and the cold drip of fear associated with it aside, Adaine refocused on the battle.

"For friendship," Fig murmured.

"Hey, you guys, I saw those owls, and I feel like this isn't really what we're here for," Kristen reiterated as the golem stomped toward them. Each step was ponderous, the golem pausing to rebalance between strides as the half-pipe pulled it toward the side, taking extra time to carefully wobble over the bubbling green liquid running through the scarred the ground. The golem rumbled, raising its fist as it approached.

Kristen ran toward Riz's hiding spot, just in case the dwarves needed an extra clue as to where the rogue was, and crouched behind the pallets. She turned, raised her staff, and blessed Fabian, Adaine, and Gorgug. Adaine felt the glow of the divine settle around her, but Kristen's magic had lost its popcorn scent. Gorgug didn't seem to notice, staring instead at a vulture perched atop the rusted vat of acid. He shivered, seemingly unnerved by the bird's calm. Gorgug bellowed at the vulture, went into a rage, turned, and charged one of the dwarves on the ground. The half-orc flung a hand ax as he bulled toward his target.

"Crush! Crush! Crush! Waghh!" The dwarf cried out as the ax imbedded itself in his shoulder. Part of Adaine winced, worried they might hurt these kids too badly for them to make it to a healer. The other part of her recognized that when the wounded dwarf picked up his mace, he knew how to use it.

"Aye, tis a fearsome half-orc treading in the halls of our fathers!" The dwarf yelled.

"Oh my god," Fig grumbled, seething at the racial comment as she warmed up her bass.

"Your fathers would hate what you're doing," Gorgug yelled back. The dwarf reeled as if Gorgug had punched him, scowl breaking into a fearful frown, tears welling in his eyes.

"Wha…" He whimpered. "Me da' would na' hate wha' I'm doing. It's just we like skatin'."

"Did he like skating?" The raging half-orc questioned. The dwarf began to cry in earnest.

"Father!" He screamed. Everyone in this town had daddy issues. Deciding that Riz's hiding spot could not be more obvious at this point, Adaine ran over to Kristen, hoping the fighters could hold the golem's attention. She turned toward the half-pipe the dwarves were standing on and cast firebolt. A shaft of flame shot from her fingertips as fast as any arrow and struck the half-pipe, igniting it and scattering the skaters. The wood caught fire almost instantly, orange tongues consuming the entire structure in seconds. Adaine had never seen something burn so fast, even from magical sources. The dwarves initially panicked, eyes stretched wide and spines stiffening as they gazed at the flames. Torek turned to stare at an open manhole off to the side. Then they noticed the cinders drifting about Adaine and calmed a little, hands on their chests as they scrambled back. Suspicion trickled down Adaine's spine.

"You worry about the dwarves; I'll take care of the golem," Fabian shouted, revving his motorcycle as he stared down Crush. Fabian leaned down and muttered to his motorbike for a moment before hefting his sword. "Though the legs then!"

"Through the legs!" The motorbike repeated in infernal, shooting for the golem. Fabian stabbed up into what should have been the nards as he zoomed between the golem's legs. The high elf had to admit that was a sick move, even though his rapier sparked harmlessly off the golem's taint. The golem wobbled dangerously, half-pipe rolling through the air, but its long gorilla-esc arms caught the Hangman on the back swing.

"Master, I have failed thee," the Hangman cried out, flames streaming from the cracks in its skull as it skidded across the ground, stopping just shy of the precipice.

"Baby," Fig gasped "Daddy." Fabian jumped off the motorcycle as the golem struck it, flipping through the air to land perfectly on top of a copper silo next to the acid reservoir the vulture was perched on.

"Bike, you failed no one," Fabian promised it. The dwarves had apparently decided enough was enough and began to move. The wounded dwarf skated for Gorgug, yelling a war cry. He popped his board onto a fallen I-beam and ground toward Gorgug, giving the barbarian all the time in the world to duck out of the way of his mace. Another skated down the burning half-pipe to the right side, then back through the fire again to pop up on a second-floor landing. Adaine wondered why these kids were somehow cooler than they were. The dwarf drew a crossbow and fired at Gorgug. The bolt connected but barely broke the half-orc's skin.

A third dwarf ground along another I-beam toward Riz, slashing wildly with a battle ax as he passed but missing. A fourth popped up the half-pipe onto the right-side landing and chucked an axe at Fabian, striking him across the shoulder. Fabian yelled but didn't fall, sparing the dwarf only a glare before refocusing on the golem.

Machaira ran past Adaine toward the dwarf that had attacked Gorgug and slashed, tearing open his side. The dwarf cried out and fell to one knee as the tabaxi hopped up onto the pallets, snarling to draw attention away from the cleric and wizard. Fig peered at the golem and grinned. She tuned her bass and began to play some kind of ballad. While Adaine wasn't affected, she could feel the sorcery in the music and knew it was a suggestion spell. Secretly, she liked the song and wished Fig would play it without magic later.

"Throw the dwarves off the cliff." Fig told the golem with a cheeky smile. The golem did not react, but Torek did.

"Dwarves! Those of us who have come here to shred in the halls of our fathers, be now blessed by Ollie, the god of rad shredding!" She thrust her axe into the air. Adaine suppressed a grin. Kristen giggled.

"These people are the worst," Fabian declared. A steely light covered the dwarves and the golem as their skate park god blessed them.

"Motherfucker," Fig cursed, turning and winking at Kristen.

"Uh, cool, uh, cool," Kristen stammered, blushing as the golden glow settled around her. Torek dipped into the burning half-pipe and shot up the left side to land on the third story of the factory without so much as a bump.

"God, that's so sick," Adaine muttered. Riz jabbed at the dwarf behind him but missed. The golem plodded over the acid dribbles, kicking pallets aside on its way to swing at Gorgug. The golem, clearly unbalanced by the half-pipe on its back, missed, slamming a fist twice the size of Adaine into the dirt next to Gorgug instead. Kristen ducked around the pallets, behind the dwarf that was squaring up to Riz and blessed herself, Fig, and Riz. How she managed to do that when bless was a concentration spell, Adaine had no clue, but the celestial glow of the gods enveloped six of their party nonetheless. Kristen then began to cast about the ground as if searching for something.

"Look on the ground," Kristen shouted in elvish. "Remember that rat?"

"What, the sexy one?" Fabian asked, flinching dangerously on his perch. "Don't bring that up!" Fig cackled wildly from her 'hiding' spot behind a spindly sapling. Kristen's expression changed to a red-faced leer.

"Do you remember _that_ rat?"

"I'll bring it, don't worry," Fig promised the cleric. "I'll conjure another one up." Why were they bringing that monstrosity back into the mix? Gorgug hefted his ax and swung twice at the dwarf that had ground past him on the I-beam. The half-orc missed both strikes and was disarmed after the second try by a laughing dwarf. Gorgug scrambled to pick up his ax and hopped over the I-beam, running around the Golem's right side. The golem bellowed, and Adaine got the idea that maybe this wasn't the best place to be.

With a spryness that she normally did not possess, the wizard bounded over the pallets like a gazelle, shoes barely touching the old wood as she shot past Kristen and toward Torek. As she passed the Machaira, the tabaxi barked out a laugh, tail waving as she warded a dwarf away from Riz with her saber.

"Woo, go Adaine!" her friend cheered. "Our girl's got legs." Machaira's face was alit with the excitement of battle, fur fluffed and teeth bared. Her wild eyes gleamed with pride as she looked after the elf.

"What has gotten into Adaine today?" Kristen asked. Adaine could have asked the same thing about Kristen. Ignoring the cleric's surprise and briefly tabling the proud, happy glow that sprang up from Machaira's praise, Adaine stared up at Torek and cast Tasha's Hideous Laughter. Torek looked down at Adaine and guffawed.

"You're trying to cast your – haha – elven – ahaha – magic – hahaha – at me- ahahahhahah?" Torek slowly fell to her knees, laughter consuming her. Adaine looked up and smiled her best refined, pretty high elf smile. She held up one hand and waved her fingers up and down at Torek. Spit flew into Torek's beard. "You'll pay for this – ahahhah-whoo, ahahaha!" From behind her, Adaine heard another, more genuine laugh as Machaira cracked up, howling gleefully. The dichotomy between the two laugh tracks was like icing on the proverbial cake as Adaine turned to share a grin with her friend.

"Bike, I'd like to ride up to Torek," Fabian called down. "Could you please be ready to catch me?"

"Sire, allow me to redeem myself in your eyes," the Hangman begged, standing itself up and riding to Fabian's silo. Fabian jumped, flipped, and landed feet first on the seat of the Hangman. Fabian surfed his bike up the burning half-pipe to jump off, twisting forty feet in the air to land on the platform with Torek. "Master, you are the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever beheld."

"Oh, you're too kind," Fabian flirted back. The whole party cheered as the Hangman fell back onto the half-pipe, zipping back and forth in the fire like an otter at play. Fabian stared down at the laughing dwarf and stabbed her. Torek continued to laugh.

"Hahaha – oh, stab me, will ya? Ohahahah, funny." Torek cackled above Adaine. Two dwarves on the second-floor levels jumped into the half-pipe, skating through the flames to leap up to Torek's defense. Each hurled a hand ax, but only the first hit, scoring another wound across Fabian's left arm. The dwarf Gorgug had fought earlier ground along the I-beam again to strike the half-orc across the spine, creating a tiny blood mark on the sweatshirt. The dwarf by Riz popped up his skateboard to block a warning blow from Machaira and swung his ax at Riz, chopping the goblin across the bicep.

The scout snarled, bounding over the dwarf to slash down his back. The dwarf cried out and fell to the ground. Machaira hissed triumphantly, golden eyes briefly flashing green in the night before clambering over the pallets to stand between Adaine and Kristen and the golem, tail waving slowly behind her.

Fig studied the golem and grimaced, perhaps realizing how many protective dwarven runes covered the golem besides the phrase 'bus lane only'. Fig ran over to the pallet stack and stared up at Fabian. The fighter looked back and forth between the dwarves that flanked him, unsure who to strike. Fig cast a sleep spell, a powerful lullaby echoing over the factory.

"We should do this sometime when there's not a fight, master," the Hangman called out, driving at breakneck speeds up and down the burning half-pipe. Adaine glanced over as the bike spoke only for something to come crashing down on top of her. Adaine yelled in surprise and pain as a dwarf flopped off the third floor and crashed down on her shoulders. Adaine was crushed under the tumbling, sleepy child, breath whooshing from her lungs. Her vision swam, and the wizard struggled to worm her way out from the deceptively heavy dwarf. Machaira yowled in alarm.

"Sorry, Adaine," Fig shouted. "I didn't see it going that way." Adaine looked over to Fig, and the bard winked at her. A golden glow settled over the high elf.

"Thank you," Adaine groaned. "It's much less weird when you do it than when Kristen does it."

"What do you mean?" The cleric asked, grinning manically and winking at Adaine. Adaine shuddered.

"Right," Torek gasped, rising to her feet. "It wasn't that funny." She glared down at Adaine.

"Dang," the elf muttered. Riz scrambled over the pallets to the base of a scaffold ladder and fired a shot at Torek. He missed, bullet pinging off the underside of the balcony.

"Watch it, The Ball," Fabian called down to the goblin. Adaine started with a yelp as the golem smashed a fist into Gorgug, backhanding the barbarian like a rag doll. The golem stumbled, almost overturning, too top heavy to handle its own strength. The half-orc skidded into a fissure, head inches from the acid at the bottom. Adaine's breath caught in her throat as the golem lumbered after him. Kristen called out to the vulture to help, and it took flight, flying off into the night. Okay, so the vulture was not the secret key to the battle. Noted. Kristen shrugged and ran past Adaine, dashing up the collapsed piece of scaffolding to the second level.

Gorgug stood and leapt for the golem, seizing its shoulder. The golem swatted him with its other arm. Had anyone else been hit, they'd be dead. Gorgug's head cracked against the golem's body, rivulets of blood running down his face. The golem shook the barbarian off, flinging him back to the bank of the acid stream. The golem began to turn toward the prone half-orc, rolling to and fro.

"I don't know if I'm good at fighting this thing," Gorgug groaned.

"I think you can't just…" Riz trailed off, perhaps realizing Gorgug didn't speak their code language of elvish. Adaine studied the golem, trying to figure out what if anything could affect this big boy. She couldn't read the dwarven runes, but Adaine was an excellent student of magic and could draw a few rudimentary conclusions. She had already seen that it was impervious to psychic attacks and non-magical weaponry. But its design and behavior made her believe that it wasn't directly connected to these dwarves; Torek knew how to awaken it but had no direct power over the golem. Defeating the dwarves would not rid them of their guardian.

All around Adaine, her friends cried out in the battle. Gorgug groaned; Riz shouted, and Kristen yelped; Fabian _ahah_'d while Fig strummed her bass; and Machaira growled. Pain, fear, defiance, and deadly confidence emanated from her party. Adaine clenched her hand into a fist and leveled it at the golem's chest. She opened her hand and unleashed another firebolt, hotter and larger than the one before. The spell blazed through the night and struck Crush across the chest, melting tar and asphalt.

"H-uuuuuuuuurrrrrrr," Crush groaned, swiveling unsteadily to stare at Adaine. Despite the fact that this was the first time they had managed to hurt it, her spell had done little more than smear black gunk across its chest. Adaine _eeep_'ed and ducked behind a column, feeling less brave now that she was the focus of its attention.

"Call of this beast," Fabian ordered above her. Adaine looked up to see Fabian dangling Torek over her hiding spot. He shook the skater for good measure, but Torek was not impressed.

"I would die before calling off – " Torek began to growl.

"Then you will." Fabian dropped Torek over the side.

"Yeah," Fig cheered as Torek plummeted forty feet to crash back first on packed dirt and broken cinder, right next to Riz and Adaine. Torek groaned weakly.

"Aye, fancy elven jackanapery," she groaned. Fabian's motorcycle pulled up to the base of the scaffold/ladder, and Fabian leapt, attempting to skid down the scaffold. He almost immediately slipped and fell himself, face planting on dirt and rubble a few feet from Torek.

"Well, I'm a very cool guy and a very lame guy all at once," Fabian moaned into the dirt. The dwarf Fig had put to sleep awoke, stood and rushed Riz, striking him square in the chest with an ax. The other dwarf atop the factory skidded down the scaffolding and launched himself at Adaine, clocking her across the back with his mace as he passed. Adaine cried out, staggering about, back muscles spasming out of control. The dwarf Gorgug had ax'd skated around Crush to hurl a hammer at Riz, knocking him across the shoulder. Adaine backed up to Riz as the three dwarves closed in.

"Goblin!" They bellowed, axes and hammer flailing at the pair. "There's a goblin in the halls of our fathers! Lame, lame!" Dwarves were ancestral rivals of both goblins and elves, but it seemed they put more stock in that than the wizard or rogue did. Unfortunately, their blood feud cost them.

Machaira, largely ignored by the skaters, managed to react to Riz's attacker moving past and slash at him, scoring a shallow cut with her saber across his side. She than pounced at Adaine's attacker, driving her blade into his kidney and wresting to the left, forcing the dwarf to turn with her blade. The dwarf stumbled away, shouting obscenities they could only guess at in dwarven. Machaira growled wordlessly, ears back as she got in front of her friends. The sound make Adaine's organs shiver against her skin, and the dwarves shuffled closer together. Machaira's mane bristled over her vision, giving the tabaxi a fearsome silhouette.

"Do we want to get this ramp off this golem?" Fig shouted in elvish.

"No!" Everyone yelled.

"What?" Gorgug asked.

"Daddio, I thought I told you this is my pad?" Adaine had to do a double take. For a moment, she thought it was a ghost. There, plain as day, stood Johnny Spells, striding out from behind a tree, leather jacket and everything. Then she remembered that Fig had stolen his jacket and must have cast Disguise Self. While the spell was convincing, Fig seemed way too freaked out to be even a little intimidating.

"He's back!" Torek yelled, pointing vigorously at Fig. "Kill him! Don't let him get below ground!"

"Okay, well, we got a clue out of it," Johnny squeaked in Fig's voice. Torek scrambled to her feet and held her shield aloft.

"That my fathers and my fathers' fathers might see me shred, and that our videos might get us sponsored by the gods above." A legion of dwarven spirits appeared around Torek, and the skater readied herself to fight. Riz averted his eyes, but the spirit guardians still seared his skin with radiant magic.

"Um, I think we have some of the same enemies," Riz yelled to the dwarves. "And to prove that we're on your side, we're about to do something so sick." The goblin made a nimble escape from their corner and climbed up the scaffold to the top floor. He pressed his arquebus into the edge of the landing and fired, propelling himself and the scaffold backward. The scaffold swung out until it stood perfectly straight, teetering slightly with Riz eighty feet in the air. The dwarves stared up, eyes wide and jaws slack.

"Goblin or nay," Torek breathed. "That's tight as hell." The scaffold finally fell back against the golem's raised arm. Riz hopped down in the perfect center of the half-pipe as the golem staggered drunkenly. The entire party cheered, chanting the goblin's name. That was hands down the dopest shit Adaine had seen yet, even if she didn't want to say it out loud.

Crush looked up at the bottom of the half-pipe above it. The golem grabbed the scaffold and began whacking his back with it. Riz panted as he dodged, ducking in all directions to avoid the scaffold and somehow managing to balance on the pitching half-pipe atop a moving pavement golem. The Ball had come a long way in these few weeks. Crush grunted, rushing over the acid to the other side of the battle field, waving the scaffold aloft.

"One big hand holds us all, Adaine," Kristen yelled in broken, religious elven. "Uh, big hand, uh, wood!" Adaine leaned back, torn between laughter and concern for their cleric's mental health. "Mage hand to pipe… summon me and thou." Adaine silently put her hands up, lips moving but not speaking as she tried to parcel that out. Fig was dying of laughter from the back of the battle.

Kristen stopped talking, sighed, and jumped for the burning half-pipe, immediately tumbling down the structure and into the flames. Adaine thrust out her hand, summoning forth a future she had divined that morning where no one caught fire. An odd future to behold, but she wasn't complaining. The lines of fate and destiny became visible for a moment, glowing blue chains connecting Kristen to the present and future as Adaine altered the course of history.

"Master, if we were to do some kind of jump on a flaming half-pipe, wouldn't that be something?" Fabian's hell beast asked, revving beside his prone master.

"Yes, I mean, yes, it would," Fabian stuttered, trying to mask his fear with cool kid bravado. Apparently he couldn't resist showing off to anyone.

"Let's figure out a way to do that," the bike urged.

"Fuck yeah," Fabian agreed, smile not quite reaching his eyes. Gorgug stood and jumped over the acid stream to seize the back of the golem's half-pipe. Adaine understood what his plan was a moment before he did it. She thrust out her hand once more, focusing harder as she bent fate to her will. She was a high elf and a diviner. Fate was hers to manipulate, and she would not see the sweet half-orc abused by this mound of slag any more. She could feel destiny resist as she clenched her fist, snapping the bonds of reality and imposing her own edicts. A new path was laid out for Gorgug, and Adaine staggered back as the future caved to her will once more, sweat shining on her face.

"I have seen these things to come," she gasped. White light shone from her eyes and settled over the barbarian, chains twisting, breaking, and reforming around him.

Gorgug took hold of the half-pipe and strained, hoodie expanding as his muscles flexed beneath it, the outline of his back and arms showing through. The barbarian pulled down, and Crush staggered back to the edge of the acid pool. Gorgug dangled over the acid, but the golem teetered just at the edge, moaning its complaints. An idea took place in Adaine's head. For sure that wasn't how the spell was meant to be used, but maybe…

Adaine braced her feet, crossed her arms into an **X**, and swept her hands to either side, gesturing from the back of the golem's half-pipe to the ground. Strands of elven magic glowed in the night as Adaine improvised a spell on the spot, mangling the words and somatics of Web to create something new. The magic that was supposed to fill a twenty-foot cube was condensed into two strands of mystic rope, sticking the half-pipe to the ground. The golem lurched and stumbled, even more unbalanced than before and unable to step forward.

"I knew it," Adaine whispered, triumph rising within her. "I knew I was good at magic. I knew it!" All those tests she'd failed at Hudol, all those times her parents criticized her lack of creativity, all those times she'd panicked and screwed up – none of it mattered just then. She'd crafted an impromptu spell in the middle of combat, and thanks to her the golem couldn't get at her friends without falling into acid. A dwarf cursed, steel clashed, and a jubilant caterwaul tore out from behind her.

"Good job, Gorgug!" Machaira howled, voice ringing with wild glee. "Way to go, Adaine! Woo hoo!" Adaine turned to see her friend fending off two dwarves, saber weaving between their axes as she protected the wizard's flank. The tabaxi flashed her a toothy grin, pride, delight, and savage joy burning in her luminous eyes. Fig joined in the cheering from the other side of the compound, more or less destroying the illusion that she was Johnny Spells. Despite the danger, Adaine hadn't felt this giddy since Machaira stood up to her mom.

Fabian stood, and Torek slugged him across the jaw with a dwarven war cry. Fabian took the hit without flinching and leapt onto the Hangman, driving over to Adaine's web. He took hold of the magic rope and began to rev his bike in the other direction, pulling Crush down to one knee.

"Sire, this is sick," the Hangman raved. "It is sick what we do now!"

"Yes, it is," Fabian agreed heartily.

"Crush!" Torek yelled. "They're going to put Crush in the acid!" The dwarves skated past Fabian, giving the fighter a free shot at the first one. The dwarf cried out and missed his strike as Fabian skewered him. The others made drive by attacks, axes and maces swinging around, all but one deflected by Fabian's fancy sword work. The last dwarf hit, the ax blade cleaving Fabian's right arm.

Machaira ran past Fabian, overshooting Crush. She whirled around and, with a burst of speed only a tabaxi could put on, bounded for the scaffolding in the golem's hand. Crush was still wailing at Riz on his back, roaring protests, when Machaira grabbed the scaffold at the top of her arc mid-jump. The scout pulled the metal ladder with her, swinging around to face the golem as she landed, yanking his arm back by the scaffold. Crush wasn't smart enough to let the structure go and bellowed as Machaira bent his arm further back. She growled, low and throaty, as she dug her boots into the dirt, wrenching the giant stone arm back and toward the acid, fangs bared and eyes wide with exhilaration. Crush stumbled lower, heel slipping into the acid, but maintained his position on one knee, crying in pain and frustration.

"Daddy?" Fig stared past the melee toward an open manhole, sprinting for the dark hole, which glowed orange with hellfire as she approached. Fig strummed her base as she ran, playing a song of healing word.

"Thank you," Riz said from the golem's back.

"Daddy, I'm here," Fig yelled down the hole. She grabbed the edge of the pit, lowered herself inside, and dropped down. The pit flared a deeper red. "Daddy, I'm coming!"

"What the fuck?" Fabian echoed Adaine's thoughts.

"So, she's in hell, right?" Machaira grunted, skidding a bit as she strained to maintain her hold onto Crush's scaffold. Right about then Torek's spirit guardians decided to finally do something. The mob of dwarven ghosts swarmed Fabian, Machaira, and Adaine. Fabian managed to fend a few off since he still had one hand free, but Machaira was mobbed and pounded from all sides by the spirits. Adaine had enough time to take one step toward her friend before the undead swarm rushed over her, bashing her from all sides with ethereal axes and hammers. Adaine was tossed about from weapon to weapon, bones crunching and body screaming with pain until she finally collapsed. Someone cried out her name, possibly Machaira, but Adaine could hardly hear anything over the ringing in her ears. Her bruises throbbed and seared from radiant light. Her vision swam black and returned before blacking and returning again.

Adaine could see the fuzzy outline of Torek Railgrinder charging Fabian. As she passed Machaira, the tabaxi hooked her left elbow around the scaffold and drew her saber in the other hand. The tabaxi had been beaten bloody and burned, her jacket tattered to ribbons of scales and her fur fully on fire from the radiant power of the spirits. Blood shone intense scarlet over her skull. But when the opportunity presented itself, she slashed Torek across the back of the head, maintaining her hold on the golem. The scout gave Torek a scorching snarl, fangs gleaming ivory in the dark. With the light of fires and ghostly energy reflected in her eyes, Machaira was gorgeous. Torek stumbled but maintained her charge, going straight for Fabian. The fighter, stationary, dipped his bike to the side under her strike, and popped back up to elbow her away.

"It cannae be," Torek spat through gritted teeth.

"It can!" Fabian retorted. Machaira barked, coughing blood, but her good humor in the situation warmed Adaine. Riz cheered for Fabian, and Gorgug joined him. The wizard struggled to her feet, chest tight with the pressure of crushed bones and internal bleeding. The tabaxi flashed her a fierce grin, and Adaine found herself smiling back, summoning magic to her fingers once again. They weren't dead yet. If her friends could still be positive, so could she. Adaine certainly wasn't going to lose her friends to a rock and a bunch of dwarves.

"Gorgug, get the fuck out of there," Riz yelled. "Or, not be somewhere where you'll fall in acid."

"Okay," Gorgug called back. "Um, noted."

"Pull down when I shoot my gun," Riz yelled, running to the 'head' side of the half-pipe. He flung his briefcase down onto the half-pipe and jumped atop it, skating down toward the back end by Gorgug. As Riz reached the far side he fired his arquebus at Crush, trying to repeat his stunt from earlier. Unfortunately, Riz missed the giant golem directly in front of him, and his briefcase flew out from under him into the wreckage, business cards raining everywhere. Riz plummeted toward the acid, just managing to grab Gorgug's foot on the way down. Gorgug yelped but wasn't shaken as Riz clung to him. Crush bellowed, whipping his arm around to smack the imbedded highway rail into Gorgug's back. Gorgug yelled but held on, still straining to pull Crush backward. Riz bounced up with the impact, briefly dislodged before he managed to secure a better grip, screaming with fear.

"No!" Kristen screamed from the burning half-pipe. "It's another terrible answer!" The cleric ran out of the fire, face twisted with anger and disappointment. She stared at Adaine, casting a preserve life spell, at the end of which she winked at Adaine. Unlike Fig, Kristen was neither charming nor arousing when she winked but more sexually awkward and licentious.

"You're getting worse," Adaine critiqued in place of thanking Kristen for healing her. Someone had to tell the red head before she tried it on Tracker. Holy light washed over the wizard and Gorgug, but it had lost its yellow hue. Kristen's divine connection had weakened. Gorgug pulled Riz up to the top of the ramp and stood on the half-pipe.

"Fabian, let's do this together," he called down. Adaine immediately understood. Separately, they could never overwhelm Crush, but together they had a chance. She ran to Fabian and jumped onto the Hangman, turning around to face the back of the bike. Adaine stared at the asshole skaters and, now completely unconcerned that they were kids like her, cast Burning Hands at the dwarves, simultaneously propelling the Hangman further forward. The dwarves screamed, one dropping fully as the others caught the spell full force.

"Aaaahh, it's back," they cried. "It is back. Our homes were burned much like this now! The ironic similarity! Or, is that irony, or is it just poetic?" The dwarves stopped debating but kept screaming, beards burning away.

"Adaine the demon," Machaira howled, shaking blood off her head. The tabaxi braced herself against the ground and readied herself to pull again, eyes aglow with savage approval for the high elf's attack, a weird mix of gentle pride and battle fury. Riz cheered, and Kristen whooped. The high elf laughed, infected with her friends' exhilaration.

"Christ, Adaine, uhg," Fabian shuddered behind her.

"Master, this one wields flame with great proficiency," the bike informed Fabian.

"Yes, it's quite impressive," Fabian admitted to the bike and only indirectly to Adaine.

"I can't see back there. Is she, uh, what are we talking? I mean, cute, good-looking, or – "

"Bike, Hangman," Fabian chastised, somehow both stern and motherly in tone. "No. No, we don't talk about women in that way." Riz and Gorgug looked ready to fall off the golem from laughing. Kristen had to support herself on her staff.

"I never shall speak of them in this way again." The Hangman promised.

"But she is rather cute," Fabian admitted, blushing furiously and wiggling in his seat a bit.

" 'Coarse, nothing wrong with that," the Hangman said. "It's fine. People being beautiful is a wonderful part of life."

"Well, it's just, you went straight there," Fabian explained.

"I did go straight there, that's not right," the bike agreed. While Adaine appreciated the compliments, somehow neither Fabian nor his hell bike inspired the same bashful joy it did when Machaira call her pretty. The tabaxi in question was no longer laughing but glaring slightly at Fabian and the vehicle, thoroughly unamused. This did amuse Adaine, who maintained her spell with her left hand and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with her right, smiling widely as she roasted children in the middle of a fight for their lives.

"Enough. Let's finish this." The scout growled, wrenching the scaffold back with all her might, twisting to catch the metal bars under the half-pipe and gain more leverage as she strained to pull against the golem. Fabian cranked the Hangman's engine, revving the bike toward the back of the factory, a strand of moonlight webbing in hand. Adaine poured magic into her Burning Hands spell, adding to the rocket velocity. Gorgug grabbed Riz under one arm, leapt, and stomped onto the back of the half-pipe.

As Gorgug and Riz jumped clear, the golem fell backward into the acid. Crush moaned horribly as he reached up to try to climb out, but with the melting half-pipe on his back, the golem was powerless to free himself from the caustic trench. This acid was once used to strip rock from mithral, and even the dwarves' magic was no use to him. Adaine and Fabian shot forward on the Hangman as the web spell dissipated, wheeling around at the last second to see Gorgug swinging on a vanishing web through the other burning half-pipe into a triple flip before landing on a second-floor balcony, Riz perched on his shoulder. Machaira released the scaffold and backed away from the flaming dwarves, snarling through a thin sheet of fire and steam as she repositioned to stand between her friends and the skaters, eyes glittering.

"So dope," Adaine cheered.

"Whoa," Kristen exclaimed. The dwarves turned to face her and Fabian, rallying to Torek.

"Now you see," Torek whispered, calling forth her spirit guardians. The dwarf stopped speaking as wood clacked from the manhole. Drumsticks. _Boom boom claff ba-boom boom claff. Doom doom dash da-doom doom dash_. The manhole glowed brighter. The drumbeat picked up into a raging solo. Torek stared with mounting dread.

"Drums," she breathed. "Drums in the deep. We shredded too greedily and too swiftly! Our fathers, they unleashed something horrible!" An electric bass solo echoed from the hole, deeper and stronger than anything Fig had yet to produce. The hole erupted with infernal energy as an ancient devil of flame and fire roared from the pit, the sickest metal power chord Adaine had ever heard rising in his wake. He landed between the dwarves and the party, facing the skaters down with a flaming whip, fiery sword sheathed at his side. Fig stood on his head, face stretched with childish delight, smoking drumsticks in hand.

"What's up?" She asked.

"Who the fuck is that?" Kristen asked.

"Who the fuck is that, Fig?" Fabian demanded.

"This is awesome," Riz admitted.

"It's probably my dad," Fig guessed. "Daddy?"

"It has awoken," the dwarves shouted, grabbing their fallen and skating for the exit, Torek flinging out healing spells as they fled. Just then, Adaine noticed stickers on their backpacks for Oakshield Middle School. Shit. She'd almost killed middle schoolers. Worse, they'd had their asses handed to them by middle schoolers. True, they'd dunked on them toward the end, but if you had to dunk on middle schoolers in the first place then you'd been dunked on.

"One, two, three, four," Fig chanted, clacking her drumsticks together. The devil lashed his whip after their retreating figures, growling. Machaira growled back, hackles raised as she pushed the others firmly behind her. Gorgug and Riz scrambled over to join the others. The devil screeched, a sound like iron beams being torn in half. Fig clambered down from his shoulder and stood directly in front of the devil. The creature stopped screaming and stared at Fig, twisted features softening into bewildered amazement.

"… Fig?" He asked.

"Daddy?" Fig nearly cried, voice small and vulnerable. Machaira tensed, saber poised, but held her position. Adaine put a hand on her shoulder, easing the scout back.

"Oh, oh, god," he mumbled. "Oh, oh my god. Hey, kiddo. I… how? I… did you just play that fucking sick drum solo?"

"That was me," a teary Fig established. "I'm sick at the drums." Fabian nudged the others deeper into the corner, watching the exchange hesitantly. Fig hugged the devil's massive quad. Emotions flew across the devil's face: guilt, love, astonishment. "Are you Gorthalax?" Fig asked the devil's leg.

"I am Gorthalax the Insatiable," the devil confirmed. "Uh, but you don't have to call me that. You can call me… I mean, I guess call me whatever you want."

"Well, how do you, how do you, how do you feel about… dad?" She smiled shyly up at the monstrous being. Rivers of flame traced down the sulfurous face from his eyes.

"What the fuck is happening?" Fabian asked. Kristen broke down laughing.

"Uh, kiddo…" Gorthalax began. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Fig promised quickly. "I mean, you missed a lot of stuff, but I'll tell you all about it."

"I would, I would love that."

"Yeah, totally." The devil turned to face them. Adaine straightened up, taking comfort in the presence of her friends around her.

"Are these your friends?"

"Yeah, you could call them that," Fig mumbled.

"Can I ask your dad if people, like, if people sacrifice kids to him or something?" Riz stage whispered to Fig behind one hand, as if that somehow made his comment less obvious.

"Are we gonna have to kill him at some point?" Fabian muttered. Machaira had relaxed slightly, more curious than hostile, fur beginning to flatten, but she remained standing between Gorthalax and the others.

"Dad, my friends, like, think that you have people get sacrificed to you," Fig explained a little unnecessarily.

"Oh, yeah, all the time," Gorthalax agreed.

"But they were, like, pieces of shit that deserved to be sacrificed?" Fig guessed.

"No, they were often good people."

"Are they, were they, are they," Fabian stuttered. "Are they often teenage girls?" He looked from Adaine to Fig as he spoke.

"What?" Gorthalax asked. "No, no, not really. Oh, oh, oh, I'm sorry." He put hands to his chest. "I, uh, I didn't ask for people to do that. They just, like, get that idea and just do that. People have sacrificed people to me a lot. I didn't, that wasn't something – "

"Okay, but you're not, like, fueled by the souls of innocents, right?" Fig asked, eyes wide with fragile hope.

"No, the opposite," Gorthalax corrected. "I'm fueled by the souls of very bad people."

"Do you know why one of your followers, Johnny Spells, might have been – " Gorthalax cut Riz off with a laugh and a clap.

"That guy fucking sucks," he gasped between chuckles.

"What?" Fabian asked.

"He didn't even fuck," Riz and Kristen said together.

"Ever," Adaine added.

"He definitely, he didn't fuck," Fig cackled.

"Wait, did word get around?" Gorthalax asked with a grin. Riz nodded. "I made him do that. I said if you want spells from me, no fuck."

"Oh, that's very good," Fabian praised.

"Wow," Adaine nodded politely, completely out of her depth. Machaira relaxed further, sheathing her weapon and letting her mane lie flat. Adaine decided to take her cue from the tabaxi

"He's a fucking – that kid's a boner," Gorthalax chortled then covered his mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry, should I talk this way around you?" They all confirmed that they spoke that way all the time.

"Could I ask you a question?" Kristen put her hand up. "Why, uh… did I just meet you in the fire or was that a different devil?" Gorthalax frowned, shook his head, and shrugged.

"That wasn't, I mean, I was trapped in a ruby, and someone had to play a sick riff on the drums to get me out."

"You were trapped!" Fig exclaimed. "That's why you weren't around when I was a kid?" Gorthalax's frown deepened to something profoundly sad and guilty.

"Fig, if I could have been there…" His harsh, grinding growl had softened to something… less monstrous than before. "Of course I would have been there."

"Let's go back and redo everything," a crying Fig urged. "We can redo everything."

"Okay, hey, guys, how about this?" Gorthalax stood, waving his hands. "Crazy day. I heard some of what was happening up there. That was fucking nuts. Did you guys drag that golem into the acid pit?"

"It was actually Johnny Spells's motorcycle," Fabian informed Gorthalax.

"You fucking jacked that dude's bike?" Gorthalax grinned again. "This kid rules!" He pointed down at Fabian. "I don't care who you are, dude."

"Oh, stop it, please stop it," Fabian waved off the praise, smile at odds with his gestures.

"I also have this gross switch-comb that I think is maybe yours?" Adaine offered the comb to Gorthalax, who erupted in laughter.

"I made him put his soul in that," he bellowed, pointing at the comb. "I thought that would be funny to do that." Everyone began talking at once while Adaine went numb at the realization that she had been walking around with that creep's soul for the better part of three weeks. Machaira subtly stepped back next to her, and Adaine took a deep breath, latching onto the faint heat her friend emitted without touching her. "Do you want it? Do you want his soul?" She could process the implications of having held it this long once she was rid of it.

"I don't really give a…" Gorthalax started then stopped, thinking. "Uh, yeah, lemme hang onto it." He delicately took the comb from Adaine and stuck it in the pocket of his loincloth. "Uh, tell you what? Long fight, you guys just kicked a bunch of ass Uh, you guys wanna go…"

"To Basrar's?" Fig asked hopefully.

"What's that? Oh, yeah. Let's go to Basrar's, get some ice cream."

"I'm sorry, you can go to Basrar's?" Fabian asked, amazed.

"Who would stop me?" Gorthalax rumbled.

"Okay, let's go to Basrar's," Fabian agreed quietly. Adaine grabbed the back of her head.

"I have a quick question." The devil turned to her. "You haven't seen, like, a rat running around here, have you? Or like a goth kid or anything?"

"Yeah, there was a rat here a bunch of times," he told her.

"Is it still here?" Gorgug asked.

"Like somebody's pet rat," Riz clarified. Gorthalax looked around and summoned a flame elemental to his hand. The flame elemental shot out and returned with a brown and white rat a moment later, easily recognizable as Zayn's pet. "Uh, this?"

"Uh, yeah, why do people want it?" Kristen asked.

"I don't know if they're gonna be down with a rat in the ice cream shop, but we can give it a shot." The devil supposed.

"Yeah, we'll come in with a full demon, but they might draw the line at a rat," Kristen theorized. Gorthalax chuckled and pointed a claw at her.

"This kid's got some fucking spine. I dig it. I'm not gonna lie."

"I'm going through a major change right now," Kristen said to the strange new devil. Gorthalax shrugged.

"Hey, you know what? At your age, that's good, and it's natural. Let's go get some ice cream, huh?"

"Yeah, hey, can we go get rid of that ruby that you were trapped in?" Fig asked.

"Nah."

"Really?"

"I'll pick it up later," Gorthalax assured her.

"Okay, cool." Fig agreed, smiling at her father. Adaine couldn't help but feel that wasn't something to procrastinate with but kept her silence, equally anxious for answers as she was for ice cream. Machaira shook herself out, shredded jacket rustling, and flicked Adaine's back with her tail. Adaine swatted at her playfully, drawing confidence from her friend's relaxed pose.

Okay, maybe a little more excited for the ice cream.


	12. Dishing with a Demon - Part 1: Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice Cream with Daddy Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that this took me so long everyone. As it is, I am posting this chapter a little hastily, so expect it to receive some editing and cleaning over the next day or so.
> 
> As always, I want to thank my wonderful reviewers. You guys are phenomenal! Out of all the chapters I have posted thus far, this is the one that I feel I need feedback on the most, so please let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, this is the episode where I decided that I wouldn't like Kristen if I met her in real life because she always forces herself into the center of attention. I don't hate her, but I feel that, while the campaign players were very tolerant of her because they were all long time friends, the characters should be less patient with Kristen. Just my opinion, happy to hear your own take on it.

**Chapter 9: Dishing with a Demon – Part 1: Secrets**

While everyone one else grouped up to get ice cream, Fig began digging around the rubble, staring at the ground and muttering.

"Hey, uh, you looking for anything?" Fig's long-lost father asked awkwardly. "What's, so, I mean, we're gonna go get some ice cream, right?"

"Yes, that was the plan," Fabian confirmed. Fig started and jogged back over, blushing a dark maroon. She muttered something about finding a skateboard.

"Yeah, let's do that," she agreed, linking arms with her dad.

"Alright, let's do it, huh?" Gorthalax grinned down at Fig and raised a hand, jagged nails swirling with infernal energy. "By the dark powers of the nine realms of the pit, I transport us." A fiery pentagram covered the ground beneath them. Adaine had just enough time to stiffen fearfully before flames engulfed her. In an instant it was over, and they were standing in the parking lot of Basrar's.

"My dad is so metal," Fig gushed.

"Oh, wow," Fabian exclaimed.

"Rad, alright, well," Gorthalax started uncertainly. "You guys file in, and just, whatever you like. Get whatever you like." Machaira shook herself and coughed. Adaine realized just how badly damaged their clothes were and began mending everybody's largest rifts on their way to the door. As Gorthalax passed her, crawling and wriggling through the door, Adaine grabbed Kristen and pulled her to the back of the group.

"This is bad, right?" She whispered. As happy as Fig was to have her dad back, Adaine could not see any way that keeping Gorthalax around would benefit them.

"I don't know anymore," the cleric admitted quietly. Adaine pursed her lips. She sympathized with Kristen's dilemma, but they needed their cleric to advise them on things like this.

"Okay, but, I, I know that you're going through an existential crisis, but – "

"Adaine, I talked to the devil," Kristen whispered. Yeah, they all had, just a moment ago.

"Yeah, and – "

"In the fire," Kristen elaborated. Suddenly the redhead's previous question to Gorthalax made more sense.

"Oh, that's… good?" Adaine tried. She didn't know enough about such beings to really weigh in. "Is that good?"

"It wasn't this devil…" Kristen began and trailed away.

"Was it a different devil?" Adaine inquired. "Well, I mean, there are many gods and many devils."

"I know, you're right," the human muttered, indirectly admitting she didn't have much to go on. "But also, this might not be good. He seems kinda weird."

"Yeah," Adaine agreed, happy to get some validation. "I just, I don't know, it's weird."

"Yeah."

"… I mean, I'm still gonna take the ice cream," Adaine clarified.

"Yeah, for sure," Kristen agreed. Adaine glanced over to see that Machaira had been holding the door open, patiently waiting for them. Adaine muttered an apology that the tabaxi immediately brushed away, tail whapping against her back.

"So, is this what mighty mages do after a great battle?" Machaira teased. "Certainly a worthy celebration. You killed it out there."

"You really did," Kristen agreed, giving Adaine another grossly exaggerated wink. The wizard cringed. "Still creepier than Fig?" Adaine nodded. Rejoining the rest of the party, Adaine noticed that Fig had cast minor illusion on her shirt so that it read: Daddy's Little Demon. "I feel like no one I know actually uses the word 'Daddy' as much as I'm hearing it used."

"No, I, it's – " Adaine tried to explain.

"It's a sex thing, right?" Kristen asked.

"Like, I don't know," Adaine admitted. "It seems like a sex thing."

"Or like a sex thing people try to use ironically and don't quite do right?" Machaira suggested calmly. Riz was staring intently at the rat in Gorthalax's hand. The devil noticed and held the rodent out to him.

"Uh, hey, do you want to hold onto this?" Gorthalax offered.

"Uh, yeah," Riz accepted the rat.

"Here you go. Aw, look at him, little squeaky guy. Look at him. Look at him go." The devil crooned over the rat.

"Aw, cute," Kristen smiled. Adaine shifted closer toward Machaira, uneasy about being in the same room as the devil. The rogue was unflappable, casually wrapping her tail over the wizard's waist as she stared on. Adaine noticed that the rat didn't spark the kind of hunting reaction the owl had. Basrar wended his way over, fixed smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Ah, I see that your wish for ice cream later has – unless, you do not wish to use that wish at this point?"

"Actually, we don't need to use it because my DAD," Fig lingered on the word, whipping up to beam at Gorthalax. " – will be paying."

"Uh, sure," Gorthalax responded. "Absolutely. You guys file in, and, uh, I got it. The whole thing's on Gorthalax, so that's fine." Basrar led them to the largest booth, a giant ring of red diner cushion in the back corner. Gorthalax sat at one end with Fig huddled against him. Adaine waited to sit last, directly opposite the demon and with a clear path of escape in case things went south. Machaira sat on her left and gave her knee a brief squeeze of comfort. Everyone focused on Gorthalax, but the devil only had eyes for Fig.

With his whip tied up, wings drawn in, knees pulled to his chest, and back bent to avoid hitting anything, Gorthalax gave every impression of bashful nervousness. The devil was constantly fidgeting with his loincloth or hands only to immediately stop and begin fidgeting with something else. His shy smile was a bizarre expression on the mangled skull-like face. Gorthalax seemed like he very badly wanted to make a good impression. But the human skulls around his waist deterred Adaine from thinking too warmly of him. Gorthalax gave Fig a jarred but happy smile like he hadn't quite processed everything yet.

"So, wow, these are your pals," Gorthalax began. "Tell me all about it. How's Adventuring Academy and all that?"

"Oh, it's cool," Fig replied, balancing her chin on her hands and smiling up at Gorthalax. "Um, I'm taking a lot of barbarian classes, um, so…"

"Great," Gorthalax said quickly. "Great, that's great. You should be well-rounded. I mean, you're young."

"I'm a barbarian," Gorgug spoke up. "And… I just thought I'd interject here, and… I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for the past few minutes, but I think that I should address it." Adaine had a sneaking suspicion about what he wanted to say.

"Gorgug, please," Kristen giggled.

"Gorgug," Adaine tried to warn.

"Are you my dad?" Gorgug asked. Fabian led the groaning. "Are you my sister, and are you my dad?" Fig shook with laughter, rocking in her seat.

"I am so sorry, sir," Fabian apologized.

"Oh my god," Fig gasped.

"We're all thinking it," Gorgug challenged. "We're all wondering it." Adaine shook her head no, and Fabian shouted Gorgug down.

"Fig is really great," Kristen assured a confused Gorthalax.

"My little family is growing," Fig whimpered out between tears, face split with a grin.

"Fig, do not encourage this," Fabian commanded.

"We're gonna take a T.O.," Gorthalax said, forming a **T** with his hands. "We're gonna take a time out, so – "

"Are you my papa?" Gorgug asked with wide eyes.

"I… hey," Gorthalax rumbled, shifting a bit in his seat. The devil took a breath and spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Here's the thing, uh, I, I think, probably, if I were your dad, you would have probably sprouted horns or some kind of infernal legacy. That doesn't mean that I'm not proud of you." The devil said quickly, pointing to the disappointed half-orc. "That doesn't mean that I don't think it's great that you're really – you guys kicked ass in the battle. You know, good job, kiddo." Gorthalax looked at all of them as he spoke, lingering on Fig, Fabian, and Adaine.

"Thanks," Gorgug murmured.

"Thank you," Adaine said, smiling despite her concerns.

"Thanks," Kristen responded. Fig shyly waved off her father's praise. Riz and Machaira studied Gorthalax in silence, the former with trepidation and the latter with curiosity.

"That's very sweet of you," Fabian told the demon.

"Yeah, that's really nice," Kristen added.

"Hey – " Gorthalax started.

"Gorgug has dinky parents," Kristen interrupted. Fabian put a hand on her arm as if to restrain her.

"Oh, they're so cute; I love his parents." Adaine reflected, turning to the barbarian. "I love your parents so much."

"His parents are incredibly sweet," Machaira agreed.

"Just to explain why he's kinda hung up on this," Kristen defended herself. "Sorry, I didn't mean it as an insult."

"Well, this might seem crazy, but I kind of… I've always felt like family isn't purely limited to blood. It's… you sort of choose your family in a way." Gorthalax suggested. In that moment, Adaine realized that whatever else happened, Fig's devil father, a literal fallen angel, was ten times better than her entire family. The support and… _values_ he held cracked a hard, angry wall around her heart. A single tear scrolled down her face. Machaira squeezed her hand under the table. As the tabaxi went to pull her hand away, Adaine grabbed hold and squeezed back. The scout spared her a small smile and laid her tail over Adaine's lap.

"Yeah, it's like everyone else who believes in the same god you do," Kristen said, nodding along.

"Um…" Gorthalax shifted and looked away from Kristen. "So, that's wild. So, you guys, how did you find me? That's… crazy."

"So…" Fig instigated the story. "We, uh, you should have seen us in this other fight. I was driving a Corvette. We have all the time in the world. I'm sure you'll hear about it. Um, but we, you know, we…" Adaine quickly cast a message spell to Fig. _I don't think we should tell him about the palimpsest_. Gorthalax, who had been staring happily at Fig, stiffened and turned to Adaine.

"Um… I don't, the last thing I want to be is rude," he insisted, waving his giant hands in a _cut off_ expression. "I… heard your message." Adaine shrank a bit. "I can kind of smell magic. I'm kinda made of raw extraplanar energy." Shit.

"And I'm made from that," Fig chimed in happily, leaning over the table. Adaine quirked a smile despite herself.

"I don't think it's fair for me to act on what I heard 'cause it was said in confidence, but I also want to be, just, forthcoming and just say that I heard it." Adaine felt her chest tighten at being found out. Gorthalax's very mature reaction both alleviated some of her fear and made her feel worse morally. Machaira interlocked her fingers with Adaine's and squeezed tighter. The high elf focused on the pressure around her hand instead of the pressure around her lungs.

"I'm sorry," Adaine managed. "I'm so sorry – "

"Hey," the devil protested, holding up his hands. "You're not, hey, hey guys, you're not in any trouble. You're fine. You're all fine. Uh… so, shoot me straight here. What's going on? Why did you guys come and get me out of there? Why were you coming to the mithral factory?"

"We've got – "

"Why are – who put you in that ruby?" Riz interrupted Fig. Gorthalax's eyebrows rose.

"Who put me in the ruby?"

"That's a good question," Fig backed vehemently. "You know what? We should seek revenge on whoever put my dad in a precious gem!"

"Well, uh, if you wanna go kick this guy's ass, his name's Arthur Aguefort." Gorthalax dropped that bomb about as casually as Adaine would ask for the time.

"Oh!" Fabian's exclamation drowned out most of the party's mutterings. Adaine pursed her lips. Kristen and Gorgug stared at each other, stupefied. Riz frowned.

"He actually kicked his own ass," Fig informed her father.

"Interesting," Kristen commented. Fabian started stuttering.

"I mean, uh, you know, happy news, there's a way to view it as if we actually killed Arthur Aguefort." Gorthalax leaned forward and stared at the fighter.

"Yeah, I did sneak him into heaven, though, but that was – "

"Sorry?" Gorthalax asked.

"That was really quick," Kristen murmured.

"He committed suicide so that we might, uh – two of us actually died, uh, who was it?" HOW Fabian was already foggy on the details of that day was a mystery to Adaine. "Kristen died, and Gorgug died."

"I died," Gorgug confirmed.

"And Arthur produced the last phoenix egg and killed another man and himself that they might live again." Gorthalax stared levelly at the fighter, unblinking eyes alight with hellfire.

"Wait a second," Fig interjected, voice hard. "So Arthur Aguefort is responsible for the fact that I grew up without a father?" She stared straight ahead. Adaine and the others looked on in silence. What were they supposed to say to that?

"I should say…" Gorthalax broke the silence. "In his defense, I kinda went buck wild."

"Who doesn't, dad?"

"What do you mean, buck wild?"

"What kind of buck wild?" Riz and Kristen asked over each other. Basrar came over at that moment, and all questions were postponed as everyone claimed their sundaes and milkshakes. Machaira chirped as she took possession of her malt.

"By the way, if you guys want to get, like, real food too, I don't know if you had dinner. I probably shouldn't just get you ice cream." Gorthalax offered. Adaine, Fig, Gorgug, and Fabian protested that this was fine.

"Could I get some nuts?" Kristen asked.

"Just, yeah, let's get some nuts," Gorthalax nodded at Basrar as he spoke. "Probably, I'm thinking, like, chicken fingers here."

"Just some extra nuts," Kristen insisted. "And then that's my dinner." Everyone stared at her. "Protein!"

"Oh god," Fabian sighed into his hands.

"My people survived in the desert with just a few nuts raining down from heaven."

"No, we understand," Fabian groaned.

"Everything in my religion is sexual," Kristen elaborated.

"No, we get it, mm-hmm," Fabian rolled over any further explanation.

"Machaira tried to eat a bird earlier," Gorgug informed Gorthalax. "But it was an owl and not a chicken." Machaira, who had already been happily slurping her desert, abruptly stopped and looked away, ears going down.

"That's very nice of you to offer," Machaira muttered. "But I'm okay, thank you."

"I mean, if you're hungry, go ahead and get whatever you like." Machaira started to protest. "No, really, it's fine. Money isn't worth much of anything for me. Go ahead, you should eat more than just ice cream." Machaira clenched her jaws and ordered a plate of chicken fingers, eyes fixed on the table. After Basrar brought Kristen her nuts, the tabaxi quietly thanked Gorthalax. "It's really nothing. And there's nothing to be ashamed about letting someone else buy you dinner."

"Depends on the circumstances," Machaira breathed. Adaine wasn't sure if she'd meant to say that out loud but she gave the scout's calloused hand a squeeze all the same. Machaira never asked for anyone to pay for her. She had tried to repay both Fabian and Adaine for buying her meals before, an offer the fighter and wizard had each refused to accept. All the same, Adaine could hear her stomach rumble and guessed that Machaira hadn't planned on eating again that night unless she caught something. The elf took hold of the rogue's twitching tail and petted her. Adaine felt better knowing that her friend wouldn't go hungry, or worse, wander the woods at night after such a fierce battle. Once everyone dug into their deserts, Gorthalax gave them some exposition.

"Alright, we'll do a little flashback here. So, I used to be, uh, an angel, alright? I was Gortheo, the Seraph of eating the right amount of food."

"Oh wow," Kristen interrupted.

"And when I fell from grace, I became Gorthalax the Insatiable."

"Very specific angel name," Adaine noted quietly.

"Yeah."

"You were the angel of eating the right amount of food?" Fig asked, perhaps wondering if her devil dad was as cool as she had first thought.

"Did you just eat a lot of Think Thin bars?" Kristen inquired.

"Wait, so you're a fallen…" Gorgug trailed away.

"Fallen angel," Gorthalax confirmed.

"What are other angel names?" Adaine wondered if every angel had a dumb name.

"What is the right amount of food?" Fabian added, eyes narrowed as though on the verge of solving a great mystery. "What exact – is there – "

"It's based on the person," Gorthalax told him. "It's not a calorie thing. It's just based on the person. Because, obviously, you not eating enough, that's not great. You eating too much, that's not great either." Fabian _uh-huh_'d after every phrase. "That's not just for personal reasons. That's for sort of community, right? You know, when food is going to be scarce – "

"Thank you," Fabian interrupted, fake-politely cutting the devil off.

"Honestly, I think you did the right thing falling," Fig told him. "Being insatiable is way cooler."

"Were you with Sol and Helio in heaven?" Kristen asked.

"I was an angel of Sol, yeah."

"Whoa, isn't he lame?" Kristen exclaimed. "I met him, and he sucked."

"Did you meet Sol or Helio?" Gorthalax asked, gesturing to one side and then the other with a claw.

"I met Helio."

"Yeah, that guy sucks," Gorthalax promised with a grin.

"Wait, Sol doesn't suck?" Kristen demanded. Gorthalax weaved his head back and forth.

"Sol's a hard guy to read," he said eventually. "You know, sun god, you can't really look right at him." Kristen muttered a yeah, her hunger for validation unsatisfied.

"Even you can't?" Adaine asked, wondering what angel couldn't even properly see his own deity or why Sol couldn't just make himself easier to work with.

"No, certainly not now," Gorthalax admitted, rolling his eyes. "Uh, but even back in the day, you know, if you were going to go into his office, you'd kind of have to, you know…" He mimed shielding his eyes with a hand.

"That's in the Holy Book of Grain," Kristen informed them. "A bunch of people see him and then they leave and there's a big floating black dot where they tried to look at Sol." Kristen took her turn to pantomime, holding a finger circle over her face. Gorthalax waved a hand at her.

"Yeah, exactly, a hundred percent," he agreed. "Um, yeah, I fell from grace during sort of the reign of Kalvaxis, and it's just like…" He stopped to think for a minute. "A couple centuries ago, and I landed over in, uh, where I was, the Durinson Mithral Factory. So, about fifteen years ago, dwarves did what dwarves do. They delved too greedily and too deep. And, uh, I basically sprung out, and I kinda went… uh, I kinda went, I don't, I kind of, you know, I was dealing with some stuff at the time. I hadn't really processed my feelings about falling, and, uh… I went, uh, I went ham, you know? I really – "

"What kind of stuff?" Fabian stemmed the tide of self-conscious ranting. Gorthalax hummed. "What kind of stuff were you doing?"

"Murder." Gorthalax confirmed. Adaine's ribs tightened. "I was doing an incredible amount of murder." Most of the party stiffened uneasily. Machaira nodded along, unperturbed. Adaine didn't know if the tabaxi had expected the confession or if she was so used to killing that it didn't shock her anymore.

"Whoa," Kristen gasped.

"Just straight up murder, like ritual killing, or…" Fabian clarified.

"No, not ritual killing." Gorthalax shook his head. "I just, sort of, go into town, you know?" Riz, Kristen, and Fabian stared on with horror. Adaine clasped her hands in front of her face, frowning. The casual admittance of guilt made her wonder if Arthur Aguefort had the right idea.

"Uh-huh," Fabian managed, putting down his spoon.

"Thank you for being honest," Machaira said calmly. Gorthalax nodded to her. Adaine glanced over at the rogue only to meet a level golden stare. Adaine answered her silent challenge with a frown and a small shake of her head, stroking the tail in her lap. Machaira had confessed to killing people, but Adaine knew her character. Her friend might strike first but never without a greater purpose. Gorthalax's slaughter was fundamentally different. The tabaxi blinked and slowly eased back into her seat, gaze warming toward the wizard once more.

"I'm sure you had your reasons," Fig defended her father.

"Well, Fig, you have murderer's blood in you," Kristen said, voice hushed and eyes wide with dismay.

"And why should that matter?" Machaira snarled, her voice immediately switching from passive acceptance to animalistic fury. "Fig is Fig, and her bloodline doesn't change a damn thing about her. You want to go back through your family tree and see if we can find a crusader down that line?" Kristen flinched away, legitimately afraid now. Adaine felt Machaira's tail bristle, muscles snapping under her hands.

"I, I just meant – "

"What?" Fig asked softly. "What did you mean?" Fig's face fell into a tight frown. Just then, she looked so much like one of Adaine's middle school friends that the high elf got vertigo. She had forgotten that Fig was half wood elf and had spent the first fourteen years of her life thinking that she was a full wood elf. Her parents had already separated over her devilish heritage. Fig always talked about how she used to be so cute and popular but never mentioned the names of any friends from before Aguefort. How many other people had judged or left her because of what her father was? By their winces, Riz and Fabian had reached the same conclusion she had.

Adaine put a calming hand on Machaira's shoulder. The tabaxi turned simmering eyes on her only to falter at the wizard's expression. Adaine understood that Machaira felt the need to stand up for Fig, but scaring Kristen wasn't the right way to do it. Machaira took a long breath, hackles lying down.

"Sorry," she muttered. "That was a little asinine of me. There was a, uh, nicer way to get that point across." Adaine rubbed the tabaxi's bicep a little and continued to stroke her tail under the table.

"Yeah, that's fair," Gorthalax interceded. "Murderer is right."

"That sounds awesome," Fig insisted dully. "I'm even more metal."

"What are you insatiable for?" Riz asked. "Murder or food?" Fabian laughed nervously.

"Uh…" Gorthalax took a moment to choose his words. "Food, murder, kind of all of it."

"Just excess?" Riz surmised.

"Excess." The devil nodded. "Just excess in general."

"Okay." The goblin rested his chin on his fist, turning that over.

"What's that, I get, there's just too much ice cream for all of us," Fabian stammered out, still laughing as he gestured to the devil. "Oh, this is fine."

"Well, I, uh, actually, if you want to know…" Gorthalax lifted a spoon of ice cream to his mouth. As the spoon got close, flames erupted in the back of his mouth, evaporating the ice cream before it could make contact. "So it's kind of like 'insatiable' in that I can't."

"Oh," Kristen nodded. "It's like in – satiable."

"In – satiable," the devil agreed.

"That's funny," Fabian declared. "That's well thought out. I like that; it's funny."

"For sure," Gorthalax agreed quietly.

"Don't worry, dad," Fig piped up. "I can figure out a way to get you to eat, finally."

"Kiddo, that's very sweet," Gorthalax told her gently.

"I'm on it," Fig promised.

"This is so rad," Gorthalax said. "What is this? This jacket rules; this is awesome."

"This is Johnny Spells's jacket," Fig told him.

"Oh, that turd," Gorthalax dismissed.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, for sure," the devil re-agreed with his daughter.

"After we killed him, I took it as a spoil of war," Fig elaborated, smiling as she twisted about in her jacket.

"That's a – that fucking rules," Gorthalax assured her.

"Thank you," Fig accepted the praise with a delighted grin.

"That's awesome." Gorthalax turned back to the table at large. "So, I busted out of there. I kind of made for the Mountains of Chaos. Uh, and on the way out of Solace, I, uh, I met, uh, Sandralynn. I met your mom." Fig's smile dimmed.

"Did you guys hit it off?" She asked. " 'Cause I kinda hate her these days, so I'm like what did you even see in her?" Gorthalax heaved a long, deep sigh.

"You know, kiddo, um… I don't think that any of your feelings are wrong. But I think that something that happens sometimes when a parent is absent is that the people that you're with everyday… they get the brunt of those feelings of sadness, right, that you're experiencing. And I think that, probably, I deserve at least a part of that. But it's only 'cause I wasn't around that I get all this extra credit that I really haven't earned. Your mom worked her ass off. And, um, I'm not – I don't want to tell you that your feelings are wrong, but I'm not super comfortable talking poorly about the woman who, after all, brought you into this world and raised you." Fig frowned, glancing between the table and her dad. The rest of them stared in fascinated silence, daunted by the seriousness and maturity of the speech.

"Holy fuck, he's such a nice devil," Kristen eventually stage whispered.

"Right?" Fabian agreed. "It's like, is he a demon, fuck? Crazy – "

"I hear everything you're saying," Fig responded to Gorthalax. "And I realize now that I have completely mistreated Gilear."

"The lunch lad?" Gorgug tried to clarify. Adaine and Fig giggled. Deep down, Gorthalax's speech had moved the high elf. She found herself wondering what was wrong with her own family that Fig's infernal father had more compassion than they did. She glanced between Fig and Gorthalax, reevaluating the devil a bit.

"Yeah, Gilear the lunch lad," Fig giggled.

"Oh." Gorgug nodded.

"That's my – "

"Oh, right."

"Your stepdad or – " Kristen interposed.

"My stepdad, or I don't know what we are anymore." Fig admitted sadly.

"Uh, Mr. The Insatiable?" Adaine addressed Gorthalax. He turned to face her fully and hummed. "Do you mind me asking, uh, why it was that you were trapped in the ruby?" Adaine's newfound respect for Gorthalax aside, she did want a definitive answer to that. The devil sighed and began to recap faster.

"I made for the border. Sandralynn caught me. I didn't – to be honest, I didn't know she was… married, at the time."

"Pathetic," Fig mumbled through a tear.

"But we had a really powerful connection that felt special," Gorthalax continued after a moment. "And when I kind of was – "

"Did you have sex?" Kristen demanded. Everyone stared at her.

"You can't ask that to – " Fabian began.

"Where do you think I came from?" Fig asked.

"Time and place, Kristen. Learn to recognize it." Machaira growled.

"You can't ask people if they had – "

"Okay, I'm sorry!" Kristen snapped. "What was it like?" She made the same face at Gorthalax that she had at the rat.

"Stop," Fabian rebuked.

"Hmm?"

"Stop!"

"What?"

"I definitely don't want to hear what my dad's sex is like," Fig interjected, scowling at their cleric. Riz looked on in a combination of horror and amusement.

"You know, I do actually," Fabian switched sides. "You know what, actually I am interes – you're like seven feet tall and a demon."

"You've never had interspecies sex?" Machaira asked. Adaine stared at her friend as if she'd grown a second head. "Your parents are two different species for crying out loud. Gorgug is half-orc. A full orc is like fifty-percent larger than a human, and that works out just fine. What's so different about this?"

"Okay, everyone stop talking about sex with my dad!" Fig ordered.

"Oh!" Fabian's eyes widened, and he winced.

"Sorry," Kristen said in a way that made Adaine sincerely doubt she was at all sorry. "He was so – he just put everything into words so great – "

"Here's the thing, guys, I'm gonna be real with y'all right now," Gorthalax spread his hands and wiggled in his seat to settle in more comfortably.

"I don't like this energy at all." Fabian put his thoughts on the record.

"If you want to talk – if you guys haven't had the talk, I'll give you the talk."

"We don't – " Kristen began.

"It's not gonna be – " Gorthalax swept on.

"Wait a second!" Fig yelled over everyone, eyes wide with excitement. "This is awesome. This is what dads and their daughters…" She trailed off into laughter, perhaps realizing that she'd spoken too soon.

"This is definitely what dads and their daughters and their six close friends do in an ice cream shop in public." Fabian sassed.

"Was the talk for everyone else the hand counts as… as sex, and you still, you need to save yourself for marriage?" Kristen asked.

"No," Adaine shot that idea down. "No."

"Wait, parents talk to their kids about sex?" Machaira asked, frowning. "That's a… a thing parents do?"

"Yeah," Riz confirmed, face creased in suspicion. Machaira stared at the table.

"I had to figure that out by myself," she grumbled.

"What?" Adaine asked. Machaira started, looked up, opened her mouth, and froze, eyes wide.

"First of all," Gorthalax interrupted. "I would say that sex is anytime that two people are expressing love for each other in a way that feels intimate, right? Sex doesn't have to involve your genitals. Some people have sex that don't even have them. There's certain elementals and other creatures that aren't biological. Sex is an – "

"Can you have sex by accident then?" Fig asked.

"By accident?" Gorthalax repeated. He frowned, thinking about it.

"Have I had sex with an elemental?" Fig wondered aloud. Gorgug cracked up.

"I don't think we'll ever understand sex this way." Adaine stated.

"I would hope that you would know," Gorthalax countered Fig. Riz stared at the rat in his hands as if asking it for answers.

"Why are we talking about this?" Fabian asked. "This is gross."

"How?" Machaira challenged. "How is sex gross?" She met Fabian's gaze and stared him down almost immediately. The fighter dissolved into a stuttering mess. "What basis do you have to make that claim?" Adaine's head swam with the implications of her friend's past that she had gleaned in the past few minutes.

"Well, okay, if this is a little uncomfortable, I get that," Gorthalax relented. "But here's what I'd say now. Uh, I… to kind of give you guys the timeline… Johnny Spells started coming around the Durinson Mithral Factory a couple years ago, two or three years ago, something like that. At first, when he got there, all he was really doing was just going there to sort of dance his feelings out, you know? It was like a big abandoned factory, and he would kind of go, and, you know, post up on a wall and kind of hit it rhythmically and then take his jacket off – "

"Did he ever swing around on a chain?" Fabian asked.

"Swing around on a chain," Gorthalax confirmed. "And kind of slide on his knees"

"He'd drink maybe one half of a beer," Gorgug proposed.

"Yeah, half of a beer, and then he'd kind of, like, smash it, and he'd kind of skip his knee way up high snapping and kind of charging down a long thing." That Gorthalax mimed the actions is what really sent their giggling over the edge.

"Wow," Adaine commented, employing all her might to keeping a straight face. "Did he ever pretend to weld so that the sparks were flying up at him?" Machaira snickered.

"That's basically all he did," Gorthalax confirmed. Adaine, Gorgug, Fig, and Machaira had lost the battle against silly grins. Riz and Fabian were still in the running, but Kristen's mouth had formed a perfect **O** of glee. "He – there's a bunch of stuff in that factory that's not going anywhere 'cause it's welded into other stuff that it has no business being welded to."

"Did he ever bring girls up there?" Riz asked. Gorthalax smirked.

"No, he didn't," the devil laughed. "Part of the deal I made with him was that he couldn't do any kind of sex stuff. I kind of got the immediate vibe that this guy was a creep, and this was sort of just a bit I was doing that I thought was funny. That was like, what if I made this dude not even be able to jerk off, you know?" Adaine stared at her hands, trying to reign in her grin.

"Whoa," Fig exclaimed softly. Gorgug snickered.

"Or he can't be – "

"I can't imagine what that life would be like," Kristen said with a terrible poker face. Riz and Fabian both put their head on one hand and pursed their lips. "It would be weird as shit."

"You never explored your body, Kristen?" Gorthalax asked innocently, easily seeing through Kristen's bullshit.

"No," Kristen admitted.

"Fuck," Fabian groaned. "You're not allowed to ask young girls that."

"One time with a corn cob," Kristen corrected loudly. Machaira smirked and leaned back against Adaine's shoulder to watch, tail tip twitching as she enjoyed the awkwardness show. Adaine snorted at her friend's weird enjoyment and began smoothing her tail flat. For some reason whenever she started moving the tip alone, Adaine felt the need to keep it still.

"Oh," Fabian moaned dramatically. Adaine, Fig, and Gorgug joined the tabaxi in her amused observations.

"Can I ask another question instead of dealing with this?" Riz asked. Gorthalax frowned.

"Right, T.O., gang," he called, gesturing for another time out. "Why are we shaming Kristen for something that's, again, perfectly natural."

"I love this guy," Kristen almost sobbed. "Are you starting a religion?" Gorthalax bobbed his head side to side.

"I do, technically I, my deal is I buy souls, so if you wanted to sell your soul for powers…" Riz was already making a _cut_ motion.

"No, Kristen," he warned, meeting the cleric's starry-eyed gaze. Adaine tried to protest, no longer amused.

"Kristen, it's my dad," Fig cut her off. "I can vouch for him. He's legit."

"Gorthalax, can we get a T.O. from you real quick?" Riz mimicked his time out sign.

"Yes, agreed," Fabian seconded.

"I would like to T.O. your T.O." Kristen shot back, mirroring the time out signal. "And bring it back – " Fig held up hands in a **T** toward Riz. Gorgug began to do the same.

"You know what," Gorthalax spoke over the bard and barbarian, standing up. "I'm gonna go out. I'm gonna go outside. I'm gonna go outside. I'm gonna have a quick cigarette. I haven't lit up in, I don't know how long."

"Oh, I've got some cloves, hand-rolled, if you want any?" Fig offered.

"Cloves?" Gorthalax asked.

"Hand-rolled cloves?" Kristen laughed as Gorthalax took one.

"You know what, I'll give, I haven't smoked a clove since I was what, three thousand? Yeah, I'll give it a shot. That's crazy."

"I don't think anyone who smokes cloves knows how to hand-roll anything," Kristen asserted. "That is the entry level drug." Gorthalax walked outside. Fig stared out the window after him like a puppy.

"Everyone needs to stop telling the demon everything," Riz proposed.

"Well, I'm sorry, I was trying to message her – " Adaine began. Fig turned back to glare at her.

"Am I – " She started.

"No, no, no, I'm not, I'm talking about the people who were telling him everything," Riz amended, staring pointedly at Fabian and Kristen.

"Oh, about the suicides?" Fabian asked. Adaine thought back through the conversation, trying to figure out what Fabian meant.

"About trying to make him your patron devil," Riz clarified.

"I don't know – "

"Yeah, you definitely don't want to become a warlock," Adaine interrupted the redhead. "That's – "

"Do you guys not think about these things?" Kristen challenged. "Like what happens to us when we die?"

"You clearly don't," Machaira rebuffed. "You want to become a lemure?"

"A lemur?" Kristen frowned.

"L-E-M-U-R-E," Machaira corrected. "A minor devil in hell."

"This is my dad," Fig reminded them.

"Why are we here?" Kristen asked.

"Sometimes you go to hell," Gorgug reminded her sharply. Adaine wondered if he remembered how insensitive the cleric had been when he went to hell.

"Yeah, if you die, you're gonna go to hell," Adaine reminded her, gesturing from Machaira to Gorgug to Kristen. "And while you're alive you have to sacrifice something great in your life like Johnny Spells had to sacrifice… ever having an orgasm, I guess? But like whatever your equivalent is – "

"That's the story of my life," Kristen cried out. Fortunately, they were the only customers there so no one else had to hear this.

"But no, but he wouldn't take that from you, he would take something – " Adaine tried to explain.

"I just have a question," Fig rolled over her, glaring at the cleric. "Think about it, your text asks you to sacrifice, you make so many sacrifices for the corn god based off of some stupid book, so if my dad just asked you to give up chocolate…" Adaine didn't know if this was Fig being Fig or a real attempt to hurt Kristen for the insensitive comments she kept making, but either way Adaine was worried. The tiefling had a phenomenal ability to manipulate, and Kristen had already begun to nod along with her.

"It's not going to be chocolate," the high elf countered. "It's going to be like friends or something."

"I got a question," Riz spoke over everybody. "Guys, okay, I don't know what he can hear. He seems very powerful. He seems like maybe he can hear us right now. So I'm gonna write a little note, and then I'm gonna show you guys."

"Why are you so insistent that we can't trust Gorthalax?" Machaira asked. "Not saying that I do just yet, but still…" Riz answered her with the note: remember that there was a fallen angel that was a part of the evidence the first day when we got in a fight in the cafeteria.

"Mm-hmm," Adaine hummed and nodded.

"So just something to keep in mind," Riz announced cheerfully. "While we all become best friends."

"Oh, you're right," Kristen said loudly. "We should do this more often." Adaine took Riz's note, threw it up in the air, and cast Fireball on it.

"Of course he was the fallen angel," Machaira retorted. "We already know Johnny Spells supplied the page for the corn monster. I'm just not convinced that Gorthalax himself is involved. Once Johnny sold his soul, Gorthalax kinda had to give him what he wanted. I'm not saying we tell him everything," Machaira added quickly when Adaine and Riz stared at her. "But he's been upfront about knowing when we were trying to communicate in secret. He could have just not said anything at all and learned everything if he was actively involved in this. Let's see what he has to say about Johnny Spells and then decide."

"Right!" Fig jumped on board quickly. The bell above the door tinkled. Gorthalax walked back into the shop and squeezed into their booth. The devil stared bashfully at the table.

"Uh… listen. You'd have to be pretty thick to not recognize that you're kind of making people uncomfortable. And I just want to say, no hard feelings, I get it. I come from the deepest pit of hell. And I – "

"Oh, we're not uncomfortable, we're fine," Adaine insisted, trying to smile naturally. From the pained look Machaira shot her, she hadn't succeeded. The tabaxi stood up.

"Give me a moment?" She asked the devil. "I'll be right back." Machaira slurped the last dregs of her malt and edged past Adaine out of the booth, headed toward Basrar. Gorthalax sighed and spread his hands in a calming gesture.

"Kristen?" He addressed. The cleric nodded. "I appreciate that you're having a crisis of faith. I had the same thing; it's why I fell. I don't think I'm a great choice for you. Fundamentally, what I do now, going around and collecting the souls of the wicked, is a part of a larger bureaucracy. The truth is that heaven and hell aren't really opposed." Kristen's eyes could not stretch any wider. "Heaven rewards the just; hell punishes the wicked. That's kinda two sides of the same scheme. It's like two different offices in the same company, you know what I mean? So, I don't think you would find the answers you're looking for with me." Kristen stared about the room, expression startled and vacant. "The truth is that ninety percent of the time heaven and hell are kind of working toward the same end." Kristen began to smile derangedly, head tilting and face twitching. "Mostly what I do when I go around – "

"I think she's good," Gorgug theorized. "I think she's doing well." Adaine and Fig giggled at the cleric.

"You okay?" The devil asked.

"I'm fine," Kristen shouted, seizing. "Keep going."

"She's good. She's good." Gorgug confirmed.

"I just," Kristen brushed some hair out of her face. "I think, I, something in my brain popped, but I'm still listening. Please keep going."

"I don't…" Gorthalax huffed. "All I'm saying is this: me going around – "

"Can I have one?" Kristen asked, pointing to Fig's cloves. The tiefling tossed her one, apparently forgetting how Kristen had just insulted her for smoking cloves a few minutes ago. Gorthalax lit the cigarette with his thumb.

"Basically, what I do when I collect souls is I go around – there's wicked people in the world, and a lot of wicked people live in comfortable countries and have very boring lives. So, they go through their whole life and kind of backdoor their way into heaven. Does that make sense?" Kristen hummed around her clove. "They were bad the whole time, but they were just comfortable and never had a shot to do something wicked. So what devils like me do is kind of just give people a shot to show their true colors, you know what I mean? The harmless guy at the bar who's just got a big mouth and everybody's like, 'ah, that guy is a crank, you know, he's harmless': well, if he was prime minister, he'd be a fucking war criminal, right? He'd be a monster. So, a lot of what I do is when we go and offer power and temptation, what we're doing is kind of stress testing the system, making sure that people… you know?"

"Whoa," Kristen gasped, eyes already red from the clove. Just then a swirl of magical icy wind wound around Gorthalax before poofing into snowy dust. "What the…?" Machaira walked back over and slid into the booth, reclaiming her seat next to Adaine across from the devil.

"Hey, Gorthalax, humor me for a second?" The tabaxi asked.

"Sure," he shrugged.

"Try and eat a spoonful of ice cream," she gestured to the bowl of melted sugar in front of the devil.

"Uh, ok, I, uh, already showed you what happens, but alright." Gorthalax spooned up some of the melted ice cream. As the utensil approached his mouth, flames shot forth, hiding his hand from view. "See, I can't…" Gorthalax trailed off, face going slack. He stared down at the spoon in his hand. The ice cream hadn't evaporated. His throat bobbed. Gorthalax moved the spoon back up to his mouth. Flames spiraled out again, but he tipped the spoon back and swallowed. For a moment, the devil did not react.

"I ate it," he said in awe. "I could taste and feel it." He scooped up more melted ice cream. Flames spewed from his mouth, but he swallowed a second time. "I don't believe it." He picked up the bowl and chugged the melted desert. Fire washed over the bowl, but when Gorthalax put it back on the table, melted ice cream was dripping down his chin.

"Sorry," he said. "That was rude, but I haven't eaten in I, I don't even know how long." Gorthalax stared at Machaira in wonder. "How did you…"

"I don't trust you yet," The scout said bluntly. "But you have made every effort to be as open and honest with us as possible. You were locked in a ruby for fifteen years, denied access to your daughter, and… well, your punishment seemed kind of arbitrary. Basrar can only grant ice cream wishes, so I wished for you to be able to eat his ice cream."

"Why didn't you wish for him to be able to eat any ice cream?" Riz asked immediately. Machaira put her head on her fist.

"God damn it," she muttered.

"That was still a good idea," Gorgug offered.

"That was really cool of you," Fig told her. "Like, seriously, so cool."

"That was a really sweet thing to do," Adaine admitted. Machaira looked over at her cautiously, as if trying to see if the high elf would judge her for spending her wish on a devil. Adaine did not trust Gorthalax half as far as she could (not) throw him, but there was no denying that the tabaxi had done something incredibly kind. She smiled warmly at Machaira, and her friend relaxed. Now that she had Adaine's approval, the tabaxi replaced her tail in the elf's lap, easing back and picking at the last of her chicken tenders.

"I don't know what to say," Gorthalax said, gravelly voice soft.

"It was nothing," Machaira mumbled, grabbing the rim of the table in her hands.

"That was certainly not nothing." The devil pointed a finger at her. "That right there, that's the nicest thing anyone has done for me in thousands of years." Murmurs of approval echoes around the table. Machaira shuffled in her seat and stared down at the table, trying to hide a smile. Adaine beamed at her friend. For all her ferocity and evasiveness, Machaira's warmth extended to everyone, even giant devils. She nudged the rogue with her elbow and received a light, playful bump in return.

"Thank you, Machaira." Gorthalax said simply, reaching toward her with a giant red hand. Machaira, still looking at the table, didn't see it coming.

"No, don't!" Adaine tried to warn Gorthalax. Fabian and Gorgug also tried to shout something, but they were too late. The moment Gorthalax's hand landed between her ears, Machaira screeched as if she'd been scalded. Her claws instantly imbedded their full length into the table. The rogue shook her head free and lunged for Gorthalax. Fig cried out a protest. Machaira's reaction speed was so fast that Adaine didn't know she was in motion until her jaws clamped together, close enough to her head that Adaine could hear the snap of her teeth connecting. Fortunately, Gorthalax had a devil's reflexes and had begun moving away when Machaira screamed. The tabaxi bit nothing but air and tried to hurl herself backward, just as she had at the Thistlespring Tree.

But Machaira's claws were so deeply impaled in the table that she could only heave her body back against the booth. Her arms jerked, shaking the table as she struggled to free herself, tail lashing from Riz to Adaine. Their table was bolted to the floor, leaving her well and truly trapped. Riz ducked and covered his head with his arms to avoid being whipped by her tail. Kristen, Fig, and Fabian began yelling over each other. The tabaxi hissed in panic, straining harder to break away, tendons standing out on her neck like ropes. Adaine worried she might rip out a claw. Basrar had started to wend his way over but seemed to think better about it and turned away.

"Machaira, it's okay." Adaine tried to make her voice low and soothing the way Machaira did for her, but she could hear her own nerves showing through. The rogue flinched away, ears back and fur on end. Machaira was hyperventilating. Her pupils had swollen to fill her eyes. When she turned to Adaine the elf knew her friend was not really looking at her but instead at some far away horror she had never fully escaped, just as they had back at Gorgug's house.

"Machaira." Adaine tried again more firmly. The tabaxi flinched again, yanking on her hands futilely. Adaine took a deep breath. "Machaira, you're not in danger." She forced herself to hold that wide, fearful gaze. "You're okay." She touched her fingertips to Machaira's trapped hand, feeling the rogue flinch once more. "I've got you." She promised. Recognition flickered in those golden eyes, pupils slimming. Adaine wondered if she was this much of a handful when she had her own panic attacks. Machaira gasped and seemed to come to. In the next few moments a swarm of emotions flew through her eyes: fear, shame, uncertainty, gratitude. Adaine didn't even know where to begin.

"I am so sorry," Gorthalax muttered, hands up as if in surrender. "I… I didn't – "

"She did this with my parents, too," Gorgug told him. "She doesn't like to be touched on the head."

"Oh, you think?" Fabian asked with harsh sarcasm, putting a hand on his heart. Adaine ignored them, focusing on Machaira. The scout had already started to wither, tucking her fangs under her jacket and wrapping her tail around her leg. Her ears and whiskers remained flat against her skull, shoulders rolling inward. Adaine placed a hand on top of hers, and Machaira flinched. Adaine held her gaze as she helped tease the hooked claws from the table one by one, trying to impart affection. Adaine wasn't as good as this. The young wizard was shaken by her friend's hysteria, and unease limited her expression of affection. She felt a surge of appreciation for how effectively Machaira handled Adaine's own episodes. Machaira kept retreating from the elf's eyes, but some measure of understanding must have made it through because she stopped flinching every time Adaine touched her. Machaira took a shuddering breath and hugged herself.

"This is, okay, this is a, this is a problem," Fabian stuttered, gesturing to Machaira. "Like, what the fuck?"

"Whatever's going on here, I mean, you should go see a healer or something," Riz commented, scooting away. Machaira's skin glowed red under her white throat and cheek patches.

"I'm sorry I freaked you out there," she said shakily. "Gorthalax, I, I am so sorry. I didn't, I just panicked, and – "

"What is wrong with you?" Kristen more demanded than asked, expression somewhere between alarm and revulsion. Machaira recoiled like she'd been struck, shoulders and head jerking away from Adaine and Riz beside her and Kristen ahead of her.

"What's wrong with you?" Adaine snarled back, rage immediately flaring within her. "Just a few minutes ago you were trying to sell your soul because you never bothered to question your life's choices until a few weeks ago. Unless you have something helpful to say, fuck off!" Everyone stared at Adaine, but for once the wizard didn't care. Kristen could be loud and rude and insulting even on her good days, but this was inexcusable. Machaira clearly had some kind of trauma, and Adaine would not stand by and let the cleric shame the tabaxi for it. For a split second, Adaine forgot that it was Kristen sitting across from her and not Aelwyn.

Kristen looked at her with wide, hurt eyes. Adaine glared back boldly, head turning to stare down the others. No one quite seemed to know what to say. Machaira had a bit of a temper and didn't get along particularly well with the cleric, but Adaine was never the instigator of a conflict. She was always the one trying to find the calmest, quietest solution. But seeing her own party turn on Machaira… the high elf felt aggressive, belligerent even. She wanted to put an arm around Machaira's shoulders, but the tabaxi was still shaking like a leaf, so Adaine settled for holding her hand under the table. Machaira started at her touch but eventually took her hand. Adaine interlocked their fingers, rubbing her thumb over the back of her friend's hand. Machaira kept muttering apologies, but her voice had shrunk to something almost incomprehensible.

"Alright, now that's a little uncalled for," Gorthalax said, gesturing to Adaine, Kristen, Fabian, and Riz. "All of you, okay? Machaira," Gorthalax looked directly at the tabaxi, softening his tone to something less sinister. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I certainly did not intend to hurt you. In hindsight, I probably should not have tried to touch a teenage girl on the head at all, regardless of how innocent my intentions were. I can tell that you're, uh, going through some, you know, stuff." Machaira withdrew toward herself further, and Adaine squeezed her hand as hard as she could, giving Gorthalax a warning look. "Thank you, for what you did. That was very thoughtful of you. I am sorry that I hurt or scared you as I did."

"Thanks for helping my dad eat again," Fig added, face somewhere between concern, gratitude, and guilt. Machaira was almost bent over, head scrunched into her jacket. She muttered something along the lines of _it was nothing, you're welcome_. The devil waved his hand and repaired the gouges in the table.

"Christ," Fabian sighed. Kristen started to say something in her 'religious superiority tone', but Adaine cut her off with a glare. Machaira shifted on her seat, and Adaine tugged her closer by the hand, encouraging the tabaxi to scoot against her side. Machaira's quivering tail eventually unwound from her leg, and Adaine let go of Machaira's hand to lay the fluffy limb over their laps. She reclaimed the tabaxi's calloused paw with her left hand and stroked her tail softly with her right. Even though they were in public, no one else could see under the giant table. Besides, if Machaira had ever needed reassurance, now was it.

"Do you think that there's a – how many fallen angels do you think there are in our town?" Gorgug asked, mercifully swinging the conversation around. Adaine silently thanked the gods for their sweet half-orc.

"In the town?" Gorthalax asked.

"Are there a lot – "

"It's just me," Gorthalax cut off the barbarian. "I'm the only one here." Riz stared at the rest of them with huge eyes.

"Oh, wow, cool," Kristen muttered, taking another puff of her clove. "So it's all your job then?"

"Let's turn it to you guys," Gorthalax suggested. "What is it you guys are after? It feels like you guy are on some kind of tip or that you guys have some kind of mission going on."

"We're just trying to fill the day, you know?" Adaine said airily, feeling her breath come short as she lied to this hulking mass of infernal power. Adaine looked down, away from Gorthalax, and felt Machaira squeeze her hand, once more assuming the role of the comforter.

"Yeah, The Ball, what have we been up to recently?" Fabian fronted the lying onto Riz, who, since they had finally found someone Fig would not lie to, was probably their best candidate.

"You know, we've, uh, got dunked on by some Oakshield Middle Schoolers, so we went to the warehouse to rumble." Riz stared directly up at Gorthalax, eyes stretched wide. Gorthalax's mouth fell into a thin line. Adaine recognized the disappointed parent look right away.

"You have no reason to trust me." Gorthalax admitted. "I get it. However," he began pointing around the table. "Johnny Spells's jacket, Johnny Spells's motorcycle, Zayn Darkshadow's rat – you guys are after some shit. I knew what Johnny Spells was up to. That kid was my vassal. I owned his soul. If you guys have questions, I can answer them."

"Was he responsible for the corn cuties?" Fig asked.

"Corn what?" Gorthalax frowned. Fig laughed. Riz, Kristen, and Gorgug all tried to explain at once.

"We were attacked," Fig spoke over all of them. "We were attacked by corn. It's my dad. I trust him." Fig directed the last half to the rest of the table. Adaine frowned. "We were attacked by corn. Someone cursed a vat of corn. And that corn had assholes, out of which more corn came. Pretty straightforward, you understand – " Gorgug nodded along, and Adaine began to giggle. God, that fight was so weird to talk about. Machaira's lips quirked, and she eased against the booth, her side flush to Adaine's.

"I gotta, I'm real…" Gorthalax interrupted, putting his hands behind his head. "We got into the, we took sort of a step into the middle of the process to a whole corn conversation that I'm not really party to."

"What do you know about Johnny Spells besides that he dances?" Riz asked. "You told us that – we know for a fact that he hung out with girls, so why are you telling us that he didn't hang out with girls?"

"He did – I know he started hanging out with girls," Gorthalax confessed. "Um, there was, okay." Gorthalax took a sharp breath. "I got sealed in that ruby. Johnny came around; I was stuck there. And I basically thought, fuck it, I'm trapped in a ruby, let's have some fun. And I was like sure, kid, sell me your soul. He was so easy. He was desperate to sell his soul to somebody. Said give me your soul – "

"Loser," Kristen muttered, forgetting that she'd offered her own soul on a silver platter five minutes ago.

"No, yeah, well, okay. No shit." Gorthalax stammered. "And he started doing crimes. He got his whole tiefling greaser gang together, and it was all kind of going well for him until some job went south. He was sticking up a bank in Bastion City. He, something went wrong with the job. He was, I guess it was more intense than he thought it was going to be. And he got into the Harvestmen. They owned him, somehow."

"What are the Harvestmen?" Riz asked.

"Oh, the Harvestmen," Kristen said with a smile. "I went to the Harvest Festival growing up."

"God," Gorthalax exclaimed with a disgusted frown.

"It's awesome," Kristen asserted cheerily. "It was just twenty hours of lectures, and then, yeah, the Harvestmen are awesome, you guys." Gorthalax's features twisted into an expression Adaine almost couldn't comprehend on the devil: horror. "No, seriously! The Harvestmen, you go there, you learn so much because you have to stay awake for twenty hours while they're talking to you. There's a pop quiz, and if you pass, you get to go to bed for two hours. But if you don't, you have to clean. But, uh – "

"It sounds really bad," Riz spoke for the group.

"I'm sorry, these men owned Johnny Spells, just a bunch of people who essentially run a conference?" Fabian inquired.

"Like summer camp counselors?" Adaine frowned.

"Kristen," Gorthalax cut in urgently. "The men that were teaching you, they were all wearing scarecrow masks over their faces, right?"

"Yeah," the cleric confirmed.

"Yeah." Gorthalax's face pulled into a tight grimace.

"Yeah, they're really eccentric," Kristen explained. "They just, they really believe – "

"They're a hardcore cult," Gorthalax interrupted. Adaine, Fig, and Riz sat up straight. "They are a militant, violent organization of religious fanatics."

"What?" Kristen frowned.

"Did they ever try to trap people or sacrifice people?" Riz asked.

"They're, well, they try to bring about the apocalypse, basically," Gorthalax summarized. "So, the Harvestmen got Johnny Spells. Somehow, he lost his contract. I don't know how the hell that happened because he was careful with that thing, and the Harvest are kind of dummies, so I don't know how they got their hands on it, but – "

"Zayn Darkshadow had it," Fig supplied.

"Zayn was a stooge for the Harvestmen," Gorthalax added. "Here's the thing, the Harvestmen are – "

"What?" Adaine murmured. She didn't want to interrupt the flow of information they'd been trying to get for weeks, but she had trouble matching Zayn, the emo emancipated orphan, with a radical cult of Helio.

"Exactly," Gorthalax gestured to her. "The Harvestmen are all around. They're business leaders, they're in the community, they're…"

"Kind of like a secret society?" Gorgug proposed.

"Yeah," the devil agreed.

"I think we've got one at Aguefort," Fig concluded.

"Oh, you guys just need to know the handshake for the Harvestmen," Kristen told them.

"You know the Harvestmen handshake?" Adaine would never get used to seeing this devil look repulsed at Kristen's history. "That's wild."

"Yeah," Kristen said with a shrug, seemingly unconcerned with any of this information. Adaine stared at her, torn between a concern and amusement.

"Will you teach it to all of us?" Fig asked.

"Uh, I'm not supposed to," Kristen told her. "But I'm also not supposed to eat this much sugar." Kristen waggled her eyebrows. Riz and Gorgug cracked smiles, but their cleric was being too cavalier for even their party to properly laugh.

"The Harvestmen are really radical here in Solace, especially," Gorthalax swept on, hands gesturing emphatically as he spoke. "Solace used to be a human country. Well, actually, originally it was a Halfling country, but then humans came in and conquered it, but then it became Solace and the Charter and the Council of Chosen came around. But it was human before that. The Harvestmen are radical human separatist religious fanatics who have a lot of roots in Highcourt and stuff like that."

"Um, Zayn Darkshadow was an intermediary for them because who the hell would trust Zayn? No parents, no family, hangs out in a graveyard, completely dismissible, and if it ever came down to someone believing the community leader or Zayn, who would believe Zayn, you know? He was kind of a… patsy for them to do a lot of their work when they couldn't show their faces. So, I don't know how they had sway over Zayn. Somebody must have had some kind of point of access to him to flip him and turn him into that sort of go-between. But, point being, Johnny got into the Harvestmen big time. Again, something with that bank, I don't know."

"You guys remember that bank we saw on the way to the – "

"That cool bank?" Riz interrupted Gorgug jokingly.

"I said we should go into that," Fig reminded them.

"I was trying to check out the bank!" Gorgug exclaimed softly.

"I said we should too," Fig murmured. Adaine remembered her dragging Gorgug away but decided not to say anything.

"Well, half the time you're asking random people if they're your dad," Riz countered. Adaine giggled, scratching Machaira's tail. Gorgug smiled faintly despite himself. "So you were right one time."

"Guys," Kristen butted in. "I'm starting to think maybe I thought the Harvestmen were good but they weren't." Adaine didn't know if their cleric just wanted to be the center of attention or had simply thought so little about her life that it only took sixty seconds of reflection to see the truth right in front of her.

"That seems – " Gorgug began speaking so everyone naturally started talking over him, all confirming that Kristen was absolutely right and probably should have realized this sooner.

"Your description of the Harvest Festival sounds like horror," Riz told her.

"My parents are kinda into it," the cleric protested. "I mean, they are really intense, but I just thought it was good-natured, you know? I'm, yeah." Red flags went up all over Adaine's brain. Fabian blew out a long, silent breath. Machaira clenched her jaw and shot the cleric a look of pity and maybe just a smidge of remorse.

"I'm really sorry that you're going…" Gorthalax stepped in. "This is extremely painful for me to watch what's happening."

"Yeah, it's ok, yeah, I was just raised in a pressure cooker for no reason," the cleric said vaguely. "God just put me in it."

"What?" Fabian asked. Adaine was convinced their cleric had lost her mind.

"We have got to table that, and I'm so sorry." Gorthalax asserted, holding a hand up to the redhead. Riz burst out laughing. Normally Machaira would step in to provide emotional support, but the tabaxi stayed determinedly quiet.

"Maybe god didn't put you in there," Adaine proposed, taking up the job. "Maybe it's just random." Kristen stared vacantly at the table.

"That's actually true, it is random," Gorthalax confirmed. Kristen immediately vomited across the table.

"I didn't do that, that was her, I didn't do that," Adaine babbled, putting a hand to her collar in panic. "I didn't cast a spell, I was just – "

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Kristen gasp through her vomit, putting her forehead on her hand.

"In any case," Gorthalax tried to push through. "The main thing was this."

"Yeah, sorry," Kristen interrupted again. Adaine siphoned the vomit away.

"The stuff that Johnny started coming to me for," Gorthalax continued. "Because he said, 'can you help me get out of it?' And I was like I don't know, dude, you fucked up and got into the Harvestmen. It's on you. He started running a couple things for them. This tea he started running for them, and that was to handle Aguefort, I think, which I wasn't going to say no to 'cause, you know, fuck that."

"So someone else wanted Aguefort dead?" Fig surmised. "It wasn't even you?"

"No," Gorthalax shrugged. "I had, I gave Johnny his powers. The only thing he, and then I know he was doing those palimpsests. But I never knew what those were for." Kristen looked around with wide owl eyes. Fig hummed. Silent frustration and anticipation passed among them. So close but so far from the answers they needed.

"He says, and the last thing was… this one thing he needed from me, which was the page," Gorthalax finally remembered. Fabian made a weak noise. "What?"

"What?" Kristen parroted.

"Hmm?"

"You had a reaction," Gorthalax pointed out.

"A page of what?" Riz asked.

"A page of what?" Fabian backed up quickly. "Sorry."

"Look." Gorthalax paused and sighed. "The Harvestmen want the apocalypse. So what they were trying to do was create a hellmouth. Right? Um, just, you know, start the apocalypse, get things going. Uh, I gave him a page that would be able to do that, right? Now, there's two ways to create a hellmouth. You can either do it with a portal, right? But then you need to find a portal that has the religious iconography to get you to hell, and you still need a portal key to open it, so it's kind of a hassle. Or you can open a hellmouth inside of a person. And that's what Johnny Spells asked me for, so I gave him a page to create a hellmouth in a person." Gorthalax shrugged a bit.

"The odds of that starting the apocalypse are very low 'cause you put a hellmouth in just an average person, yeah, some demonic shit's gonna happen; but the person would have to have sort of a direct connection to Sol for that to actually create a hellmouth powerful enough to kind of trigger Armageddon."

"And what happens if you personally killed that person that had a hellmouth opened inside of that – " Adaine began quiely.

"With a ladle." Kristen unnecessarily took over the narrative.

"Shh," Adaine hushed Kristen. "Hypothetically."

"Uh, I mean, you did it, job well done. You shut the hellmouth." Adaine felt herself droop with relief. Machaira flashed her a small smile. "Did you kill someone with a ladle?" Adaine opened her mouth to respond, but her ribs tightened over her lungs. She nodded shakily, and Machaira rubbed the back of Adaine's hand with her thumb. The tabaxi's eyes were a mix of pride and sympathy, and Adaine took comfort in her presence.

"Yeah, she hit her in the head so hard – " Adaine felt her panic begin in build as Gorgug spoke and buried her fingers in Machaira's tail, leaning against her slightly. Her friend's silent support cushioned the renewed terror and shame of killing Doreen, and Adaine smiled, half nervous and half grateful.

"You guys are hiding so much stuff from me," Gorthalax exclaimed.

"Hey, no you just got here," Adaine retorted. "We're not even hiding anything. We just haven't said it yet."

"I'm sorry, you don't need to come at us about that, alright?" Fabian backed her up. "We don't have to tell you anything, sir!"

"Yeah, at all," Adaine added, staring Gorthalax down. It was so much easier with back up from Machaira and Fabian.

"Hey, everyone needs to stop speaking to my dad like this," Fig snapped.

"I don't appreciate your tone," Kristen said to Adaine.

"Yeah." Fig nodded to the cleric and glowered at Adaine and Fabian.

"I really appreciate you, sir," Kristen said to Gorthalax.

"That's okay," Gorthalax half shrugged. "I appreciate this – "

"Do you think if you get a second after this you could give me a book list of things you think I might like?" Kristen asked. Adaine momentarily slumped against Machaira, mentally exhausted by their cleric's shenanigans and the oscillating trust talks that ultimately went nowhere. Machaira butted the crown of her head against the side of Adaine's, and the wizard sat up straight again, willpower renewed.

"Sure," Gorthalax agreed easily. "The Necronomicon's a great place to start."

"Do not take this man's recommendations," Fabian rebuked as Kristen began to write notes on what the devil told her. Riz pulled his mouth into a tight frown

"This man is my dad," Fig reminded him.

"I know this man is your dad," Fabian protested. Adaine began to chuckle at the silliness of the situation.

"The Book of the Fallen," Gorthalax continued. "Uh, the Gospel of Hate, um you can do the, uh, the Red Book of Fiends is pretty good."

"Do you know…" Gorgug began. "As far as the other way to make a hellmouth… it's just a place that has a portal, is what you need?"

"Yeah, portals are naturally occurring everywhere, but because they're only activated by a portal key, most people miss them." The devil elaborated. "Portal to hell would be something that had to do with the religious iconography or had some kind of connection to the lower planes."

"Can I ask, do you know if Elmville has a portal?" Fabian inquired. Gorthalax frowned.

"Well, it has a bunch, but I don't know if they necessarily head to hell. Portals are naturally occurring all over."

"How, how, how does one find a portal?" Adaine asked quietly.

"Uh, you can, you can use detect magic to find one, you can – there's a couple, sort of, regular spells that are pretty useful that you can use."

"Is there one right here?" Adaine asked, beginning to get freaked out. She removed her hands from Machaira long enough to cast detect magic. Looking around, Adaine saw a portal almost immediately at the base of Basrar's little tornado. Through it, Adaine could see a frozen landscape that she could only assume led to the elemental plane of ice. She stared, uncomprehending for a moment, and related her finding to the group.

"This was here the whole time? This is just a portal, right? Is that where he's storing the ice cream? That's cool." Adaine decided finally, settling back and reclaiming Machaira's tail, curiosity satisfied. The idea of interplanar portals seemed much less scary now that she knew they were responsible of Basrar's ice cream. Machaira laughed a bit at her antics, eyes half-lidded as the wizard stroked her fur.

"He's a djinn," Gorthalax told her with a smile. "Why, did you guys interact with this page in any way?"

"It was in the big thing of corn that tried to kill us," Gorgug offered without elaboration.

"I think it touched my bible," Kristen added.

"I held it," Adaine reminded them. "I picked it up and held it and read it."

"We destroyed it," Riz informed the devil.

"We did destroy it though," the wizard confirmed.

"Okay, well, you're – " Gorthalax began.

"Do I have a hellmouth inside me?" Adaine suddenly demanded, voice breaking toward the end of the question. Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought. Her pulse skyrocketed, and it was suddenly difficult to breath. Gorthalax frowned.

"Um, that's a good question." Gorthalax opened a third eye in the center of his forehead. Adaine found herself staring deep into it and was overwhelmed with visions of endless torment awaiting her in a stark, cruel afterlife as just punishment for her magic. Fire, hate, and despair crashed over her mind and soul, instantly overpowering any meager defense her mind might possess.

"You're good. I don't see anything in there that's… for the most part you seem good." The devil assured her. " 'Cause you're a, did you, you were touching it, but you know these things only have a certain amount of power, you understand? If this thing was already possessing a number of beings – what did it end up possessing?" Adaine barely heard any of this, her mind still in tatters after her vision. Gorthalax's harsh rumble of infernal magic ended almost as soon as it began, but the wizard had lost all sense of time. She trembled, so far beyond a panic attack that she couldn't fully comprehend that she was back in Basrar's and not imprisoned in the sulfurous wasteland.

Strong arms pulled her into a firm, warm hug, and a tail curled tighter over her waist. Adaine latched onto Machaira's arms and tail, breathing so shallow and rapid that her vision swam. Machaira rubbed her muzzle across Adaine's cheek, and Adaine could feel a rough tickle as the side of her teeth scraped across the elf's face. The wizard leaned her head into the tabaxi's touch, relishing in the softness of her cheek fur as Machaira nuzzled her again. The rogue rested her jaw on Adaine's shoulder, broad skull pressing against her neck. Some part of Adaine understood that this was a lot of PDA, but after the night she'd had, the intimacy was like a heating pad on sore muscles.

Adaine's quivering ground to a gradual stop, breathing slowing as she took in the smell of warm fur, chocolate, chicken tenders, and Machaira's mild animal musk that clung to the tabaxi. Her body unlocked from its panicked rigidity. Adaine refocused on the conversation, existential terror slowly dripping away as she basked in the warm sensation of being held until she felt stable enough to pull away. Machaira neither restrained her nor made comment. Most of their friends spared their interaction but a passing glance, but Adaine caught Fig smirking at them a few times.

"Oh, there was – " Riz had not noticed her episode and carried the conversation on.

"It was a lunch lady," Fig cut him off.

"It was only a little piece of paper," Riz continued. "There might have been more of it."

"Then the corn that was – " Adaine's voice was a meek whisper, still huddled against the tabaxi.

"Lunch lady, creamed corn – " Kristen ticked off her fingers.

"But this was a big piece of paper," Riz spoke over her, gesturing the size of the page with his hands.

"One page," Gorthalax confirmed. "Not a huge piece of paper."

"We found it then," Fig concluded. "We found it, and we neutralized it."

"Wait," Gorgug protested. "This is off topic, but I have an important question – "

"He's not your dad." Riz, Fabian, and Kristen said simultaneously.

"That's not what I was gonna ask," Gorgug protested. "That's not what I was gonna ask."

"I'll smack you," Fabian threatened mildly. Gorgug fully faced Gorthalax

"No, I just feel like you're the only person that I can really ask this, but when I died, I went to this weird dark place where a tree had a leaf fall and the leaf cut my hand. Um… what, is that just hell?"

"A tree with a leaf cut your hand?" Gorthalax reiterated.

"Yeah, it was like a dark forest or something."

"Oh!" Gorthalax exclaimed. "No, that sounds like a forest of blades. Those appear all over on Acheron. You went to orc heaven." Gorgug looked, if anything, more concerned than before.

"That was heaven?"

"Orcs are fucked up." Gorthalax said simply. Adaine giggled.

"But I thought the guidance counselor went there," Fig reminded them. "He wasn't an orc."

"He was there," Gorgug recalled. "Maybe he was just switching, tagging me out." They both turned to Gorthalax inquisitively.

"It's possible that your guidance counselor worshipped Grimps One-Eye," The devil responded.

"He became a monster." Gorgug mimed an even more massive figure than himself. "He started getting mad, becoming demon-like."

"Maybe he was entering rage," Kristen said.

"You know, a lot of those sort of quiet, nice guys have a lot of shit they never kind of let out," Gorthalax said.

"Ain't that the truth," Kristen agreed solemnly. Adaine stared at her. The cleric broke down into quiet but hysterical laughter.

"You were saying about this bank," Riz started, trying to keep them on track.

"I grew up in religion!" Kristen interrupted.

"What is up with the cool bank that Gorgug really likes?" Riz pressed.

"It's not the cool bank," Fabian insisted. "It's just a bank." Riz shrugged.

"It was kind of a cool bank," the rogue disagreed.

"There were not any pens or lollipops that we could take," Adaine reminded him.

"It was a sleek kind of cool," Gorgug clarified.

"I'm starting to feel guilty," Kristen broke in. " 'Cause we're really, we're not trusting him, but we're grilling him, and we're getting a ton of answers. Is there anything you want?" Kristen directed the last part at Gorthalax.

"I think we can pretty much trust him at this point," Riz conceded.

"I'm personally pretty offended by how you're all treating – "

"I love your dad," Kristen interrupted their bard.

"Honestly, that's fine." Fabian told Fig. "Your dad is a giant demon man. I'm sorry." The last sentence was aimed rather disingenuously at Fig's dad.

"I want to correct you," Gorthalax said calmly. "Because you're speaking from a place of ignorance. I'm a devil."

"Alright, fantastic, even worse, alright?" Fabian rebutted. "I, ugh."

"Wait a second, your dad's a pirate. We're not rude about that." Adaine countered. She wasn't fully on board with Fig's dad, especially after her horrifying vision, but she had to acknowledge his openness. And what Fabian said was dangerously rude.

"Devil is way better than demon," Machaira voted quietly, the first time she had actually spoken since Kristen tried to shame her for her attack. Gorthalax twitched a smile at her.

"Well, my pa – he, no," Fabian stuttered. "He's not a pirate. He's a privateer. Please call him a privateer, thank you." Adaine made a sarcastic pity pout and whined mockingly. Big fucking difference. Machaira barked out a small laugh.

"What's up with this bank?" Riz repeated, grin unnaturally wide as he struggled to remain calm. Gorthalax threw up a hand.

"It was intense. He went in – they kind of, they had like a policy where they're like no pens or anything that they gave away."

"We're well aware," Riz laughed, bent over his new rat.

"But he went in to rob them," the devil swept on. "And he went up thinking, you know, they're gonna press the button, there's gonna be the bulletproof kind of glass. He went up, got his spells ready. Every single teller took out a crossbow and opened fire on him. And they fucking slogged it out. It was the most militarily competent bank he'd, um, sort of ever been. He got shacked up."

"Do you know what's in that bank?" Riz asked. Gorthalax shrugged.

"I got nothing. I don't know." He admitted jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "I don't, sort of, I don't deal with money. I've been in a gem for a long time." He frowned and pointed at Kristen. "Were you what the page was for?"

"I mean, that's…" Fabian trailed off.

"It seems like that," Riz offered.

"Yes, didn't Zayn push you down that day?" Fabian remembered.

"Yeah, someone bumped into me, that other bully guy. Who's the asshole?" Kristen pointed at Gorgug as she spoke.

"He did bump…" Gorgug muttered.

"Yeah," Adaine nodded.

"Zayn pushed you down," Fabian recalled, frowning.

"He did," Adaine confirmed, keen to revisit her bully smokescreen theory.

"And then the other guy threw your bible into the…" Gorgug trailed away, trying to remember the word _corn_.

"Yeah, Zayn pushed me down, which might have been when he added the page into my bible," Kristen summarized. "And then someone else threw my bible into the corn. I think that's how this all started.

"Why was Zayn working with the – wait, no," Adaine cut herself off, seeing her thought from a new angle. "Why were the jocks working with Zayn?"

"Well, I don't think that, because it, I mean, it seems like, you said the page needs to be with a holy person, right?" Fabian stuttered.

"Maybe he was trying to make ME the portal," Kristen shouted over the end of Fabian's sentence as he said it.

"Yes!" Fabian exclaimed. "I think Zayn tried to make you the portal."

"That would have been awesome," Kristen stage whispered.

"That would have been bad." Gorthalax disagreed gravelly.

"I know," Kristen backtracked. "I'm just trying – I'm in a bad mood for god right now." _Never would have fucking guessed_, Adaine thought. She knew Kristen was going through a lot and deserved some sympathy, but the wizard was feeling less than generous towards the human just then. Adaine put her anger aside for the moment. Her party needed everyone to work together. More than that, her friends needed her support right now.

"That, I get it," Gorthalax assured the human. "But that would be what in the church is called perditional contradoxy." Adaine blinked, completely blanking on the term.

"Yeah," Kristen agreed.

"Right," Gorgug nodded along, putting two fingers to his chin.

"Do you know what that is, or did you just say right?" Gorthalax called out Gorgug.

"I just wanted to – no," Gorgug murmured, looking down at his lap.

"You don't have to talk," Riz told the barbarian.

"Ah, perditional orthodoxy," Fig said, nodding and smiling at her dad. Gorthalax chose to take a much more helpful and mature route than Adaine's father would have.

"Perditional contradoxy is a religious article of faith that basically says someone who's been promised for heaven, someone who has been chosen for the light, is condemned to hell. When that happens, it proves Sol a liar. And it creates a cataclysm within the faith." The devil explained.

"Totally," Kristen said.

"A perditional contradoxy is a huge deal. That's an apocalypse creating thing."

"So that – " Fig began.

"Whooooooaa," Kristen exclaimed over Fig.

"Page that you made was supposed to doom someone to hell." Fig spoke louder to talk to her father around Kristen.

"Me," the redhead reminded them. " 'Cause I'm…"

"Chosen?" Fabian guessed.

"Preordained," Kristen refined. "We believe in predestination, actually."

"Why did you create that?" Riz cautiously questioned Gorthalax.

"Wait, lunch lady Doreen is in hell?" Adaine exclaimed. The idea that she had sent an innocent victim to hell paralyzed her. Repeats of Gorthalax's vision swept through Adaine's mind, only this time with lunch lady Doreen languishing in the flames instead of herself. Kristen gasped, staring at her with wide, accusatory eyes. The wizard put her head in her hands. Machaira squeezed her shoulder.

"Yeah, you do, do you know dad that a really nice person went to hell because of you?" Fig asked. For the first time that night, the tiefling seemed legitimately angry with her dad.

"No, because of me!" Adaine reminded her. The page wouldn't have mattered if Adaine hadn't killed Doreen.

"That isn't your fault." Machaira told her firmly. "Whoever ordered this page made is to blame. You were trying to save your lives. You couldn't have known what was going to happen to her."

"No, you just killed her and put her out of her misery of being in hell on earth and just in hell in hell." Kristen said.

"I have a question," Gorthalax began.

"That doesn't help," Adaine retorted to Kristen, reaching the end of her patience with the cleric.

"Did the person… is the page still intact?" Gorthalax asked.

"No," Adaine assured him.

"Then I doubt she's in hell," Gorthalax told her.

"Ah, okay," Fig conceded.

"Okay, cool," Adaine agreed shakily.

"Ah, I hope she's serving soup in heaven," Fig wished with a smile.

"Or maybe she's enjoying her hobby or something and she would, doesn't…" Adaine fell to giggling, light-headed with relief. "I mean, she shouldn't be a dinner lady for all – "

"Is she really cleaning tables in heaven?" Kristen interrupted.

"Yeah," Fig smiled. "Just wearing that golden hairnet in the sky!"

"You guys seem like you got a lot going on," Gorthalax observed.

"No," Fig promised him. "I have all the time in the world."

"I'm gonna leave you guys to it," her dad continued.

"Breakfast tomorrow?" Fig asked hopefully.

"Yeah." Gorthalax smiled. "Yeah, you know, why don't we get breakfast tomorrow before school. You know, do me a favor, tell your mom, tell Gil… um…"

"Gilear?" Fig supplied.

"Yeah, Gilear, yeah."

"Yeah, yeah," Fig said quickly, nodding along. Adaine gave her fifty-fifty odds of actually tell her mom.

"I am… SO happy," Gorthalax said with finality.

"Me too," Fig assured him, smiling fir to burst. "I'm definitely going to invite Gilear because we go to school together. He's the…" She briefly descended into giggles.

"He's the lunch lad?" Kristen tried.

"He's the lunch lad," Riz agreed.

"He's the lunch lad at school," Fig cackled.

"That's great," Gorthalax said easily. "It's good to be working. I mean, a job's a job. There's nothing – if you're working, you deserve respect. You deserve dignity."

"I know, I got him that job," Fig told her father.

"Working on something other than yogurt," Kristen joked.

"It's true, he's…" Fig trailed off into mumbling. She had told them all about her father's unfortunate yogurt habit.

"I don't catch that reference," Gorthalax admitted. "But I do want to wish you guys to have a good night. I'm gonna take off 'cause I gotta kind of check in. I haven't checked in with hell for, you know, years, so I imagine that my infernal realm is kind of – probably chopped up at this point."

"Wait, you're going to hell?" Fig sat straighter. "I'll come!" Gorthalax's eye twitched.

"You know, why don't you hang tight," he suggested. "And I just want to make sure stuff is good down there, and then I'll hop back up. I'll see you for breakfast tomorrow."

"Okay," Fig relented.

"Alright, sweetie."

"Real quick…" Fig looked about the table and bit her lip. She gestured for her dad to follow her and walked to the other side of the shop for a word in private. Kristen immediately began speculating what Gorthalax and the Harvestmen might mean for her and her beliefs about Helio. Adaine politely tuned her out, sinking against the booth. They had been here so long that the red fabric had molded to her shape. She shifted, trying to get comfortable. Machaira took out her comb and reached for her mane, then paused, glancing about at the others, and slowly put the comb away. Despite the rogue's panic earlier, her mane remained as tempting as ever. The wizard was toying with the idea of asking the tabaxi if she wanted Adaine to help comb her when Gorthalax roared and erupted into fire, disappearing from the shop. Fig walked back to the group, pensive but not upset. Adaine decided that this meant that it was safe to turn to other matters.

"Okay, about this rat," she initiated. As much as the high elf wanted to get into bed, she wanted to complete their business for the night more.

"Yes," Riz agreed.

"We should have asked him about the rat," Fabian lamented.

"Rats are pretty smart, right?" Adaine remembered. "But I don't have Speak with Animals. I don't think that's a wizard spell." Fig leaned around Gorgug and cast detect thoughts on the rat.

"I mean, we'll probably go to bed after this, right?" The bard asked.

"Yeah, we'll probably go to bed," Fabian laughed exhaustedly. "Yeah, we'll probably go to bed after this."

"And probably do more stuff with your dad," Kristen mumbled, whether to Fabian or Fig, Adaine wasn't sure.

"What's the rat thinking?" Fabian asked. Fig made a minor illusion of cheese and held it in front of the rat in response. The rat ran across the table and buried its face in the cheese only to stop and stare between its paws and the illusion.

"What's it saying?' Kristen asked.

"What's happening?" Fabian reiterated.

"I don't think anyone is trapped in there," Fig announced.

"Okay, great," Fabian said.

"Unless it's a cheese monger," Fig amended. "There could be a cheese monger trapped in there."

"You know cheese is deadly toxic to rats, right?" Machaira said. "If someone is going to hold onto this guy, they cannot feed him cheese." Riz wrote that down. Adaine cast detect magic on the rat. It was definitely Zayn's familiar, but there was nothing else magical about it.

"Yeah, I mean, it feels like we've discovered…" Fabian proposed. "I mean, the Harvestmen generally seem to be…"

"The problem." Riz finished for the tired fighter. Fabian muttered a confirmation. "Something with the bank, too. We'll go check out that bank." Riz picked up the rat and held it under his face. Fig's illusion had run out, so the rat simply sat sadly in his hands and did not protest.

"Edgar." The rat looked up at the goblin. "Can you nod if you saw Zayn get murdered?"

"Keep asking," Fig immediately ordered Riz, staring intently at the rat.

"What if, who killed Zayn?" The Ball continued.

"A tall man with a scarecrow mask on his face," Fig translated. "Any more questions? This thing is talking in my – "

"Was anyone else there besides the scarecrow mask guy?" Riz rushed.

"Um, wait, who wants, maybe ask about who wants to get him, who are the, what are the owls?" Gorgug stammered.

"Ask if Zayn has ever been to the bank," Fig suggested.

"Yeah, why are owls after you?" The rogue asked. Edgar sat up, squeaked shrilly, and took off. Fig flinched.

"No," Kristen moaned.

"You can get real cheese," Fig called after the rodent. Machaira's ear flicked toward the rat as it ran off. The tabaxi slunk out of her seat, tail whisking over Adaine's face as she passed. Riz followed her, rogues doing what they did best. Adaine followed them, worried the Edgar might get hurt if they didn't catch him. The three found the rat hiding under a barstool. Basrar came over as Riz picked him up.

"My friends, you have let a vermin loose – "

"Oh no, it's not a vermin, it's a pet," Adaine said quickly. Riz laughed. Machaira, who's interest in the rat had died down considerably now that it was not running, moved to stand a step back.

"It's a familiar, Basrar," Riz told the djinn. Edgar popped his head over Riz's hand as Basrar conceded. "Thank you, Edgar. They're not after you – they're magic – they're not here. We keep them away. We got them to leave last time, so stick with us and you'll be safe." Riz stumbled over his words. "Do you know of any magic owls?" Riz pulled a face, perhaps wondering what he was doing asking a rat about magic owls in an ice cream shop.

"Zayn saved Edgar just before he died," Fig confirmed their suspicions. "Was it out of love for you or because you have some value?" Fig asked Edgar as they sat back at the booth. Fig smiled after a moment. "He said, 'who can truly know what lives in the heart of another.'"

"Wow," Kristen gasped. Impressed murmurs rose from the rest of the group. Adaine decided that this was a good rat if there ever was one.

"Alright, it seems this rat is just a rat, so – " Fabian started, the only one unimpressed with Edgar.

"Edgar, where was it that you went to last with Zayn before he died?" Adaine asked. "Did you go somewhere with him before he died?"

"The Black Pit," Fig related after a few seconds, quirking a grin. "He says invisible as 'inbisible'."

"Inbisible," Kristen repeated with a smirk.

"Inbisible," Adaine smirked, heart swelling toward this adorable rodent. Machaira smiled softly. Adaine was very glad that her friend didn't want to eat the rat.

"You think…" Fabian began slowly. "The time whenever, uh, ah, god, I can't believe I'm talking to a fucking rat. Whenever you and Zayn would meet, uh, eh, would you and Zayn go to a place to meet with these scarecrow men?"

"It's a teacher at Aguefort," Fig said.

"Who, was it the coach?" Riz asked.

"Porter." Fig asserted. "Do you know Porter the Barbarian?" Pause. "Somebody with a hat who always has sweatpants on and a whistle."

"That would be a coach," Riz informed the rat with a laugh.

"Yes, little rat man," Fabian joined in the chuckle. Kristen's eyes were huge.

"Basrar," Kristen called. "Do you have any cheese here?"

"That will kill him," Adaine reminded the bard.

"Or a cheesecake ice cream?" Fig ignored her.

"A cheesecake ice cream I can do," Basrar confirmed. "I can't make regular cheese."

"And that's okay," Riz promised him with a smile. "You're still a really good djinn."

"Yeah, we really appreciate you," Kristen said.

"This is the best ice cream store I've ever been to," Adaine promised.

"We consider you a friend," Kristen told him.

"I need to go in the back," Basrar announced thickly. He turned and rushed into the kitchen. Horrible crying echoed from the kitchen.

"You guys, I have a crazy idea," Kristen began.

"Why is he so sad?" Adaine wondered rhetorically. Everyone began talking at once.

"He's a djinn, and he can only grant ice cream wishes," Riz theorized, the only one with an actual idea.

"But we love ice cream," Adaine protested. Machaira nodded emphatically, glancing sadly at her empty malt glass.

"You guys, I think I might try to join the Harvestmen," Kristen whispered.

"I mean, could you do that much lying?" Fabian asked harshly. Adaine felt he had a point.

"I could join the Harvestmen," Fig countered.

"No, I already have an in," Kristen shot back. "They've already seen me. I've been to their festivals, and granted it's the gateway festivals where they try to recruit people young, I can tell."

"I'm assuming you're not actually going to join the Harvestmen, right?" Fabian's question had a bit of a dangerous undertone. "You're just going to get the information we need."

"Well, I'll need to, like, join them," Kristen insisted.

"I think we're getting ahead of ourselves a little bit," Gorgug cautioned. "I think we should just… go home, go to sleep, come back to school, and maybe check out – you can talk to coach? I don't know about joining the – "

"That's what I'm saying," Kristen interrupted. "I express interest in joining the Harvestmen to Coach Daybreak tomorrow and see where it goes from there."

"Okay," Gorgug muttered. Everyone's crystal lit up simultaneously. Adaine checked her crystal to see one new message from Biz Glitterdew. Normally, she wouldn't have even opened it. She'd instantly deleted a number of messages from him before. But since it was in their group chat with him, she assumed it was safe to read.

"Oh damn," Riz sighed.

9:54 P.M. Biz Glitterdew: So sorry guys. Don't think I can be the hacker anymore.

This was followed by a picture of the pixie completely in traction in a hospital bed, covered in bandages and blood. Adaine stared in horror. She was by no means fond of Biz, but the little weirdo didn't deserve anything remotely so brutal.

"We gotta get to the hospital," Fig declared.

"Oh my god, ask him if he still has the palimpsest," she urged the bard.

"No, I think we should just – " Fig stopped talking, got up, and made for the door, leaving everyone else to scramble after her. Since Gorthalax had paid for their food, Adaine only slowed to call goodbye to a sobbing Basrar.

"Well, we don't want them to see us at the hospital visiting him," Riz argued as he jogged to catch up with Fig.

"We can go stealth around the hospital," Fig countered.

"We should sneak into the hospital," Riz agreed.

"I'm not gonna get a text like that – " Fig began heatedly. Machaira grunted, approval briefly flickering in her eyes before she looked back at her boots, hands in her jacket pockets.

"You can cast disguise," Adaine suggested.

"Yeah, I'll disguise myself as a pre-med student," Fig confirmed with a grin.

"Great, so you guys will go?" Adaine clarified.

"What?" Kristen cackled.

"Why don't you guys go and then I don't have to go see Biz at the hospital?" Adaine felt sorry for the pixie, but she knew that this nerd needed all of zero encouragement to keep creeping on her. Whenever it had been Adaine's turn to guard Biz, Machaira had either come with her or taken over for her completely. Even with the growling tabaxi hovering around, Biz had been almost completely undaunted in making Adaine as uncomfortable as possible.

"What do you think a pre-med student looks like?" Fabian inquired as Fig laughed.

"Do you guys, does anybody, should some of us go to the hospital and see what's up?" Riz stammered.

"Yeah, I mean, it shouldn't be all of us." Fabian agreed.

"Why don't we all go so that we have everybody within…" Riz gestured from side to side.

"You know, not everybody has to go inside," Gorgug pointed out.

"Right, let's go to the hospital. I can sneak with you." Riz put his thumb to his nose and pointed at Fig with his pinky. "And you can be dressed as a med student or something."

"Yeah, I'll just do my regular – I'll just use my regular disguise kit and put on some doctor's scrubs." Fig decided, pulling the kit out of her bag.

"There are always like religious books in the hospital bookstore 'cause that's where everyone decides to come to god, so I'm gonna see if there's a Harvestman book and just start reading so I can sound really… in the know." Kristen trailed off. Adaine wasn't quite ready to start feeling sympathetic for the cleric. She'd probably start tomorrow, but for now she ignored Kristen in favor of staying close to Machaira. The tabaxi had barely spoken since the human turned on her after her freak-out. Adaine shoulder bumped Machaira and tried to give her a supportive smile. Her friend's lips quirked up a bit, and she nudged Adaine back. The high elf wanted to hold her hand but refrained, worried that any more PDA might draw too much attention from their friends, so she settled for simply walking next to Machaira.

Fig decided to dress as a resident instead of a med student, complete with fake tired crow's feet. She, Riz, and Kristen went inside and left the others standing on the street corner. After a few minutes of idle chatter, Gorgug took out a copper piece and asked Fabian to call it. Adaine sensed an opportunity to elevate Gorgug and knock Fabian down a peg. She quietly cast a mage hand spell, controlling the coin so that it always came up in Gorgug's favor. Machaira shook with silent laughter, eyes finally regaining their gleam.

"Hey, back at the factory, that was fucking badass," Machaira murmured to her.

"Thanks, that thing you did with the ladder was pretty sick," Adaine responded, manipulating the coin toss again. Machaira snorted.

"Compared to you bending destiny? Hardly." The rogue's gaze was fierce but warm. "Can I ask you something?" Adaine nodded. "That thing you did with the magic ropes, what spell was that? I haven't seen it before."

"Oh, that was a modified Web spell," she told the rogue. Machaira frowned.

"I thought Web filled a big chunk of space with spider webs or something?"

"Normally, yes. I altered it to create a new spell to hold the golem down." Machaira stared at her for a few seconds and blinked hard.

"You made a brand-new spell in the middle of…" She shook her head slowly, smile spreading across her face. "I don't even know why I'm – of course you did. You're fucking Adaine." Adaine felt herself stand straighter, grinning to match her friend.

"Well, it's not a brand-new spell, exactly," Adaine moderated. "I just tweaked Web to do something different."

"Different words? Different hand motions? Different effect?" Machaira asked. Adaine nodded shyly. "Sounds like a new spell to me." She nudged the high elf with her elbow. "Don't sell yourself short, Adaine. You're like the cleverest person I know. Innovation during combat is the marriage of intellect and skill. You did fucking phenomenally, and you didn't even panic." Machaira's gaze glowed with pride and happiness. "Adaine the Brave coming in to save the day once again."

Adaine felt herself lapping up the attention. The wizard knew she was a little hungry for positive reinforcement, but Machaira's applause filled her with a light, confident joy. She felt as if the scout made up for her parents' complete lack of approval by being twice as warm and loving as anyone else in her life. The tabaxi never praised her for doing nothing, but the respect in her voice was always real. To Adaine, it meant the world that her fierce friend regarded her so highly because her esteem was earned. More than that, Machaira always recognized her achievements. She went out of her way to make Adaine feel stronger, more self-assured.

The wizard briefly leaned against her friend's side and got hip-bumped as a result. Adaine mock-glared at the tabaxi, feeling herself finally relax. This whole day had been a fucking emotional rollercoaster. For now, she was content to screw with the boys and enjoy the moment.

"Alright, that's heads for the 64th time," Fabian grumbled. "Heads or tails?"

"Heads," Gorgug called. Adaine spun the coin, only letting Fabian think that the coin rose and fell because he flipped it.

"Fucking heads, again." Fabian tossed the coin to Gorgug. Gorgug slipped his thumb under the coin.

"Heads or tails?"

"Uh, tails," Fabian decided, assuming the law of 50/50 was still in play. Gorgug flipped. "Heads. We keep getting heads." He said with a smile.

"Sixty-five times in a row it's been heads. What have you guys been doing?" Fabian questioned, apparently forgetting they were on number sixty-six. Adaine finally broke, giggling over the fighter's justified paranoia. Machaira snickered, tail rising to hover somewhere around her shoulders like a fluffy fishing pole.

Just then the others came out of the hospital. Fig, for some ungodly reason, had a gigantic tub of lube under her arm and a shoe-box sized container of condoms stuffed in her jacket. Several new bottles of alcohol clinked about her person, significantly more expensive than her normal brands. The tiefling was grinning and giggling worse than Adaine, her lips raw and red. Sand dusted her stolen lab coat.

"Biz was attacked by one of the Harvestmen," Riz announced before Adaine could question their bard.

"What? Oh, fuck." Fabian exclaimed.

"The guy had a scarecrow mask and sweatpants – "

"What did you think happened?" Gorgug asked Fabian.

"I don't know, maybe it was just an accident," Fabian defended himself.

"Quite possibly Coach Daybreak," Riz finished.

"Coach Daybreak," Kristen tried to finish over him.

"He was bragging to the A.V. club about – "

"Anybody can wear sweatpants," Adaine pointed out.

"We think there's a mole in the fucking A.V. club," Fig announced. "So tomorrow, whoever wants to go with me, I'm gonna rough up those A.V. club geeks." Riz began laughing hysterically.

"We can't just – '

"We can't go beating up A.V. – don't beat up those children," Fabian finished for Riz.

"We can use magic," Adaine reminded Fig.

"No, I'm gonna rough 'em up," Fig informed her. Machaira barked out a laugh, flashing hooked teeth. Adaine grinned. Why was she arguing with these two?

"You're right, let's rough 'em up," she announced. "I would like to rough 'em up." Riz and Fabian sputtered protests while Machaira cackled, eyes glowing with approval, tail dancing in the air. The rogue clapped, smiling at the high elf and tiefling with wicked joy.

"I just feel like sometimes secrets get out 'cause people are just kind of casually talking about – " Gorgug began.

"I'll try to talk to Shellford," Riz continued the tradition of not letting Gorgug finish a sentence. "Maybe someone could – "

"They could have had some kind of a tracking on the palimpsest too," Kristen interrupted, maintaining her tradition of stealing the focus of a conversation.

"A tracking device they only just now decided to use?" Machaira asked scathingly.

"But that's all they knew, alright?" Fabian said. "We know who we need to deal with, alright, and it's the coach."

"I think we gotta go home," Gorgug declared. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, I need – I do also want to go to bed," Fabian agreed.

"Yeah, let's go to bed," Adaine seconded.

"Let's meet up before school tomorrow," Riz suggested.

"Fantastic," Fabian muttered.

"Maybe we'll decide to either go after Shellford or Daybreak," Riz continued.

"I have breakfast with my dads," Fig reminded them.

"Great," Fabian commented, mounting his motorcycle.

"Do you guys ever feel like you get exactly what you wanted, but then it didn't end up being the answer?" Fig polled the party.

"No, I never get what I want," Adaine told her.

"I mean, I often get what I want, and I'm often very satisfied," Fabian countered. "If I'm not, like, more, like my expectations are surpassed time and time again." Right then Adaine hated the fighter.

"Hey, did you guys, I was looking for books in that bookstore, and they didn't have any of the titles that I grew up with," Kristen said. "Did you guys grow up with _My Forsaken Classmates are Scum_, you know that animated book?"

"Kristen, I think your parents are in the cult and are maybe directly involved in everything that's happening." Riz tiredly rained on the cleric's parade.

"I don't think so," the cleric disputed.

"I don't want to, yeah," Fig muttered.

"Maybe," Adaine sided with Riz.

"You know, be careful, maybe," Gorgug suggested to the human.

"What about _The Seven Eyes of My Lord and How I've Wronged Them_?" Kristen tried again. Fabian turned and rode away on the Hangman. The others took their cue from him and seperated, muttering good night. Machaira offered to walk Adaine home, and the high elf happily accepted. For a few minutes, the two girls walked in silence. Adaine appreciated that Machaira did not feel the need to force conversation, but while the quiet was refreshing after the hectic night they'd had, Adaine felt that she needed to talk to Machaira. The fact that Machaira kept a good foot and a half of distance between them reinforced this.

"Machaira, can I talk to you about tonight?" Adaine asked. The tabaxi winced, drawing her shoulders inward.

"Is this about the touching?" She guessed. "I'm sorry, I know I was being a little handsy. I just – you seemed nervous about Gorthalax, and I wanted to, like, reassure you or something, I'm sorry – "

"No," Adaine stemmed the babbling. "No, that's not it at all. No, that was nice. That's fine, always." The wizard cleared her throat. "No, I wanted to talk to you about when Gorthalax touched your head and you freaked out." Machaira flinched, ears going flat and tail snaking between her legs.

"I'm sorry," the other girl muttered. "You shouldn't have had to put up with – "

"Don't apologize," Adaine cut her off again. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. I just wish you would talk to me about what's going on with you. I know there's something wrong with you." Machaira flinched again. "Not wrong with you as a person! Or an animal, or in between – you know what I mean. I mean, I know something's wrong with your life, or – " Adaine huffed, hating how poorly she was wording this. "I know there's something you're scared of." She settled on. "There's something hurting you, and I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what it is so I could help you." Adaine stopped walking and stared at Machaira, trying to pour sincerity into her voice and expression. The rogue met her gaze. Those golden eyes never lied, and just then they were fatigued far beyond the chaos of that night. Adaine had never seen Machaira look more defeated than she did in that moment.

"Remember what Fig asked, about getting what you want, and how you said that you never get what you want?" Machaira's voice was slow and heavy, raw with emotion. "Until I started at Aguefort, I would have said the same thing. I never expected to make friends here. I never expected to be happy with my party. I certainly never thought I'd have a best friend as good as you are. I… you don't understand what it means to me that you would even bother to ask these questions." Adaine hadn't fully understood how much the tabaxi valued her, but she could hear the intensity in Machaira's voice. It was a little daunting but in a way that felt good, like a promise.

"It's not a matter of trust. I trust you more than anyone else alive. I don't talk about my life because…" Machaira squeezed her eyes shut and looked down. "I'm not brave enough to see the look in your eyes if I tell you." Her voice fell to the softest rasp. When Machaira opened her eyes, they were dull. Her tail fell to the ground. Her scars seemed deeper, fresher in the streetlight. Right then, even though Adaine was standing in front of her, Machaira looked more alone than anyone Adaine had ever seen, more so than the high elf had ever felt herself. In that moment, Adaine knew that there was nobody in Machaira's life taking care of her. Despite all the love and support the tabaxi gave to the rest of them, Adaine was positive she didn't have anyone looking out for her.

For a second, Adaine was angry that Machaira couldn't just tell her this, that she made the high elf figure it out on her own. Why couldn't Machaira just talk to her and make it easy? Then she stared at those flat, tired eyes, void of the passion Adaine had come to admire so much, and she realized that Machaira expected her to be angry. The rogue had mentally braced herself for Adaine to rebuke her for feeling scared. Her chest constricted. Shame stole over her anger. This time, it was Adaine who had doused Machaira's warmth. When Adaine was scared, Machaira never got upset. She always believed that the high elf was stronger than her panic attacks, that all she needed was a little reassurance. Now Machaira was scared, and she thought Adaine was going to be disappointed in her for it, and _gods_ that was a feeling Adaine could empathize with painfully well.

Adaine stepped forward and hugged Machaira. The scout recoiled slightly as she approached but froze when Adaine embraced her. The elf squeezed as tightly as she could. After a moment Machaira hugged her back, her hold on Adaine secure but soft, careful as always not to hurt the mage. Adaine stared at her scars, following the slashes down Machaira's head into the fluff of her mane. The white lines fairly glowed against her darker fur in the orange city-light, highlighting their breadth and depth in her skull.

"You're my best friend, too," Adaine mumbled thickly into her shredded ear. "You keep calling me 'Adaine the Brave', but you're the bravest person I know. I want to help you. I was wrong; I did get one thing that I wanted. I got an amazing friend, and I don't want to lose her." Adaine pressed her head against Machaira's, swept away by just how much the tabaxi meant to her. "I'll be here until you're ready to talk to me. And whenever you're ready, I'll still be here." For a few minutes, neither girl spoke. Adaine rubbed Machaira's back, and her friend immediately arched into the touch. Machaira's ears rose, brushing over the elf's face.

"I don't deserve you," Machaira murmured eventually. Adaine tightened her grip on the rogue, trying to deny the statement without words. "Thank you, Adaine. I… is there anything I can do for you?" Adaine pulled back and grabbed Machaira's tail, wrapping the limb around her waist like a belt.

"Just be you," she said simply. "And be here with me." The tabaxi smirked and coiled her tail tighter, keeping Adaine close. She put an arm around the wizard's shoulders, and Adaine leaned against her as they walked, sliding her arm around the scout's waist. Warmth trickled back into her body, chasing away the night's chill.

"Always," Machaira promised, soft but serious. "For as long as you want me, I'll be there."


	13. Dishing with a Demon - Part 2: Rising Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High emotions and high stakes broil together before the big game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit of a filler chapter, I know, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway
> 
> As always, your reviews are cherished. It really does make my day.

**Chapter 9: Dishing with a Demon – Part 2: Rising Tensions**

Machaira hung up her crystal, stood, and stretched. As per usual she had texted Adaine once she made it back to camp to let the wizard know that she was 'home' safe. However, the tabaxi had learned that Adaine's family tended to harass her whenever she walked through the door unless Adaine made it home after they were in bed, in which case they harassed her in the morning. Although her family were not night owls by Machaira's standards, Adaine hadn't managed to dodge them tonight. So Machaira had sat down on the edge of the wooden pallets she'd pitched her tent atop to wait for Adaine's response.

Though Adaine didn't admit it, the high elf was always scared to go back home. While the wizard's family didn't hurt her physically, they constantly reminded Adaine that she was inferior. Too often Machaira had left Adaine smiling and happy only to call her an hour later to find that she was bordering on a panic attack. After the emotional upheaval they'd had that night, Adaine's family had left her in tears. So Machaira delayed bathing to talk to her friend until she fell asleep more than an hour and a half later, significantly calmer than she'd been when the rogue first called. But now that she no longer had to remain controlled for Adaine, Machaira let herself fully express her emotions.

She stood, growl building in her chest until the forest shook with her fury, low rumbles rippling through the dark, power mounting until her voice rose to her rough, harsh approximation of a roar. Machaira stamped about, kicking at the sandy soil. She pounced on the pine bole she'd planted upright near her firepit, claws gouging at the wood. Kristen hadn't fully healed them after the fight at the factory, and her back and abdomen ached from the pounding Torek's spirit guardians had delivered. She was still rattled from her breakdown at Basrar's and her talk with Adaine on their way home. Her fur was in desperate need of a bath, and it was already too cold for comfort. Machaira had a lot of reasons to be in a bad mood, but nothing rankled her worse than having to comfort her friend every night after a mission.

Machaira didn't mind providing emotional support. It was nice to have someone she cared enough about to support for a change, and Adaine was a good friend. The high elf's panic attacks were not the result of any character flaw, and her performance in spite of them was admirable. But that Adaine's family was the source of her routine distress – that tinged her vision red. When Adaine told Machaira how her family treated her, it aggravated old wounds inflicted by apathy, disdain, fear, and hate.

Machaira's parents had seen what a monster she was from day one. Their choice of name, while cruel, was a disturbingly good fit. And Machaira had proven them right on her own many times over since she last saw them. Her parents were responsible neither for her nature nor for the behavior of the other tabaxi in the community. Machaira's flaws were fundamentally hers alone. But they had never tried to help her, never supported her. The scout had survived in spite of them and not because of them. She'd had to learn everything through trial and error, mostly error. To her, home had meant a place you went to because you had to, no matter how much you didn't want to be there.

Adaine's situation was, if anything, worse because the only thing 'wrong' with the high elf could be completely removed if her family supported her. Machaira's faults were ingrained; Adaine's panic attacks were not. Her friend was beautiful, intelligent, refined, and really good at magic. She possessed in spades every quality her parents appeared to esteem in her sister Aelwyn. Adaine only needed a little emotional support to flourish. Had her parents realized this, Adaine would probably still be more anxious than most girls her age, but Machaira was sure that she wouldn't have panic attacks. And even with her panic attacks the young diviner was incredible, brimming with determination and constantly striving for success. That Adaine stayed where Machaira had run was proof enough that the elf was stronger than her, and the tabaxi would be damned if she didn't help her friend to see that.

More than ready to get some of the grime out of her coat, Machaira headed down to the stream to bath. While she always loved the feeling of being clean, the water was cold enough to send her teeth chattering, and the cold night air only made it worse. Soon it would become cold enough that bathing at night would be dangerous. Machaira wasn't sure what she would do then but decided to cross that bridge when she reached it. As she scrubbed the dust and dried blood out of her fur, Machaira could hear Kristen's accusation ringing through her head: _what's wrong with you?_

The tabaxi had been relieved that no one brought up the incident at Gorgug's house again. Machaira had hoped that they would let the event fade until it was forgotten. And it looked like it would until tonight. And then she made an ass of herself yet again, this time in front of her friends AND in public._ You should go see a healer_, Riz had said. You can't heal scars; you can only endure them. Machaira flung her towel at the tent pole that served as her coat rack. As she followed through on the motion, she could feel seams in her muscles where scars ran deep and healed poorly, forced to pull at her body in new ways to compensate.

Machaira huffed, chest heaving. Her hand had already found its way between her legs, cupping her sex over her sweatpants. Machaira took her hand away even as she acknowledged the pleasure. Since her heat cycle began, Machaira's answer to her self-esteem problems had been to find someone to bed her. The mix of physical contact, pleasure, exertion, and lack of mental cognizance had been a bandage to her damaged mind. But she had come to see that the way she went about getting laid was doing more harm than good, never mind the terrible people that wanted her at that age, many of whom she'd intended to kill from the onset. It was a destructive habit she'd left at the wayside more than a year ago, but her body still remembered. While Machaira was by no means averse to masturbation (it was one of the only ways to prevent herself from rolling over and spreading her legs to someone when she was in heat), she refrained from doing so during emotional turmoil in the hopes of breaking the muscle memory of her bad habits.

Thus, she found herself crawling through the layers of her blanket pile, trying to push aside the memory of her party's repugnant looks, growling and whining where no one could hear her feline complaints. Although the bath had helped, she was still bruised all over, injuries throbbing out of sync with the different ache between her legs. The tabaxi stretched out on top of the mound, pushing out against the air with locked limbs until her body trembled. She pawed at her mane, claws pulling at fur and fingers running along scars. Ruffling her coat was a nice, relaxing sensation, but it was always better if someone else did it. Gods, she hadn't had anyone really scratch her pelt in over two years. Adaine liked to play with her tail, and though Machaira enjoyed the attention, it would have been so much better on the denser fur and muscle around her chest, shoulders, and neck.

Some small, mean-spirited part of her mind said that she wouldn't like Adaine nearly as much if the wizard wasn't her only source of physical affection. Machaira knew herself well enough to understand that wasn't true, but the thought still bothered her. She was happy she'd met the young diviner, happier still to be her friend. She liked talking to her, enjoyed her company. Adaine was the catalyst that turned a productive day into a good day. Machaira would have been happy to spend her entire free period watching the wizard do her homework to see the gears turn in her head. But the fact remained that Adaine was her only source of physical attention in a very long time. As much as the tabaxi tried to avoid any lingering touch when her friend wasn't panicking, she enjoyed being handled by the high elf far too much. Part of Machaira worried that Adaine might get weirded out by her desire for contact and pull away completely. The other part grimly acknowledged that she'd lose Adaine anyway once her back hit the wall and she was unable to weasel out of telling the diviner her past. No matter how much Adaine cared for her, the elf's anxiety meant she could only handle so much. Deep down, Machaira knew Adaine wouldn't be able to stomach the events of her life.

The rogue ran her hands up her abdomen, pressing down against her breasts as she slid calloused palms up to grab her shoulders. Hooked claws slid from their sheaths to prick her, just enough to tug at her undercoat without piercing the skin. When Bast sent a servant to bring Aguefort to her attention, the spirit had warned Machaira that she would face her greatest challenges yet at the school. At first the scout assumed the mystery of the disappearing girls would be her challenge. Now she knew that wasn't it. Servants of Bast were expected to follow the goddess's example. That was why they worshipped her in the first place: they believed that her path was one of strength. Bast encouraged her worshippers to stand on their own but to stand for others. You fought because someone else was worth fighting for. In this way you became stronger than the limits of the flesh and hardened against the allures of evil beings. But the war goddess demanded that her faithful were willing to give anything to follow her example. They must accept every battle, face every fear, and pay any price necessary to protect what was good and beautiful around them.

Eventually, her friends would demand to know about her past. Machaira would have to tell them everything because she was afraid to. They would see her for what she really was. And then she would have to let them go, watch these people she'd grown to love leave her. That was the test Bast had set for her. And as much as it would hurt, Machaira accepted that this would happen. Her only goal now was to delay the inevitable confrontation until after they had taken down Daybreak and found the missing girls. As the tabaxi laid her head on her arms, she made a grim promise to friends that could not hear it. Before Machaira lost her party for good, she would ensure that they made it through to the end of their quest alive and well. She had always taken care of herself, but they would have each other. The rogue burrowed deeper into the blanket pile in an attempt to escape the chilly night and tried to take comfort in that thought.

"**Who cuckolded who and how and how many times and why doesn't really enter into it." – Gorthalax to Gilear**

The next day, Machaira awoke before dawn as she always did. When she went to bath, a frog leapt from the bank toward the water. Her head had swung down the moment she saw movement, and her teeth made short work of the morsel. Machaira gulped the creature down quickly, lips curling at the taste of raw amphibian, memories of her first prey needling her. She brushed her teeth twice to make sure no one would be able to smell it on her breath. She was lucky, Machaira reflected, to have had eaten both last night and this morning. Machaira got to the bus stop a little earlier than usual to prepare herself mentally. Adaine was smarter and more perceptive than she was. The elf would know something was wrong with her unless Machaira didn't actually think about last night's revelations and only focused on their mission for the day instead.

When Adaine arrived at school, practically bouncing with pride at how good she had gotten at taking the bus, Machaira realized that this was what she would miss most: the little moment when Adaine saw Machaira and smiled and Machaira smiled back because she'd found someone who was happy to see her. The tabaxi said hello and laughed and accompanied her to her locker just as she always did. But she took a moment while Adaine spun her combination to taste the air, drawing Adaine's scent across the roof of her mouth. Every living creature had a unique scent. Machaira knew her party's scents better than her parents'. Other humanoids often asked what they smelled like. Machaira could identify scents on a person: their race, places they'd been, things they ate, others they spent time with. But once you got to know someone, their actual scent didn't smell like anything except… well, themselves. Their smell was as much a distinct identifying characteristic as their appearance, perhaps more so. To Machaira, Adaine smelled safe and warm because that's what Adaine was.

"What the hell?" Machaira snapped to full attention as Adaine held a yellow gift card. The front was emblazoned with a fancy gold piece and the words _The Gilded Coin_. The back had _45 gold piece_ written on it in black marker. "How did this get in my locker?"

"Is there anything else in there?" Machaira asked, frowning.

"Doesn't look like it," she said, studying the gift card. "And this isn't magical." Adaine smiled, then tried to repress it and didn't quite succeed, pulling the weirdest smirk as a result as she casually slipped the gift card into her shirt.

"And you're putting it in your bra instead of your gold pouch because…" Machaira snickered, flicking Adaine across the knee with her tail to show that she was joking. Adaine staggered a bit from the blow and mock glared at the tabaxi, who stared back with wide, innocent eyes. Adaine grinned, and they went to Insight class without further incident. When they met up with the rest of the party for free period however, the others revealed that they too had found mysterious gifts in their locker.

Fig had a ruby guitar pick with _Gorthalax's Girl_ inscribed on it in gold letters. Gorgug got a leather holster for his ax with a tin flower emblazoned on it. Fabian had a tin of car wax for the Hangman. Kristen had a massive book called _On the Subject of World Religions_. Riz had a beautiful leather briefcase to replace the one he'd tried to skateboard on. The front of the briefcase was stamped with the gold initials _T. B._, complete with a stack of gilded business cards for one _Riz "The Ball" Gukgak,_ _unLICENSED investigator_, followed by his contact information. Riz excitedly vomited a bit.

"I think my dad gave me a present in my locker," Fig guessed, holding up her pick.

"I think your dad gave me this," Gorgug added uncertainly, holding up the leather case.

"Why is your dad giving me clothes money?" Adaine asked with a frown.

"You asked for clothes the other day," Kristen reminded her slowly.

"Did you give me this?" Adaine asked Fabian.

"No," the fighter responded quietly.

"These are all our deepest desires," Kristen summarized. "He's, like, tapped into what we're all after."

"I've always felt like my ax kinda cuts my butt sometimes," Gorgug commented. Adaine, Fig, and Machaira giggled.

"But now it'll look really good while cutting your butt," Kristen countered.

"Yeah," Gorgug agreed happily.

"I…" Adaine hesitated, torn between happiness and suspicion. "This feels weird, right? Just to be given your heart's desire."

"I'm wary," Kristen added.

"I should hope these aren't your deepest desires," Machaira joked.

"Or it's fine, and we just got stuff," Gorgug proposed.

"Gorthalax has so far done nothing wrong – " Riz reminded them.

"Yeah, but he is a demon. I'm sorry," Adaine directed the last part to Fig, holding out a placating hand.

"But it's too perfect, right?" Riz finished.

"Yeah, it's too many – " Kristen began.

"I'm a demon, too," Fig told Adaine.

"No, you're a tiefling," Adaine countered.

"Technically, Gorthalax is a devil, not a demon. And yes, it matters." Machaira said.

"I'm a demon." Fig ignored Machaira, staring at Adaine instead. "What makes me a tiefling is that – it's not that I'm an elf, it's that I'm part demon. I've got demon in my veins." Kristen opened her mouth to comment but froze when Machaira shot her a withering glare.

"Well, but no, he, like, makes people sell their souls to him, and – " Adaine tried to protest.

"No, he seduces people to show their true colors," Fig corrected her. The two girls stared at each other, weighing their options.

"Do we want to go to the A.V. club?" Gorgug suggested. "Maybe we can't figure it out right now." Everyone began to murmur agreements.

"Let's go to the A.V. club," Riz spoke for the group. Fig began strumming her base with her new pick.

"Who do you think he got into my locker, is what I'm saying," Adaine tried again. "Like, it was locked and warded."

"Yeah, I'm really suspicious of it," Kristen chimed in. "I'm probably going to skip the A.V. club and just go read in the library, uh… this new tome. And I'm going to see if they have any of the books that I recognize as a kid. I'm really just looking for one other place to have that."

"You should be very careful, Kristen," Riz warned. "Because you keep walking into places and asking for cult literature. Um, and the cult seems to be, like, targeting people – "

"Yes," Fabian supported emphatically, relief and worry mixing on his face as Riz voiced what he wasn't comfortable enough to say.

"And beating the shit out of them and putting them in traction. So maybe just don't talk to people about – "

"Do you think these presents are from the cult?" Fig asked, concern lining her red face. "Do you think that we've alerted them to our presence, and these presents are from the cult?"

"Definitely not," Fabian assured them quickly.

"Wait, they could have been watching these crystals 'cause we've talked about all this stuff at school." Kristen looked scared at her own idea.

"Oh, there's no way the cult got us these gifts, alright?" Fabian stated, waving a hand dismissively. "There's just no way."

"Let's go to the A.V. club," Riz suggested again.

"Let's go to the A. V. club, yes," Fabian agreed heartily. "Wait, Machaira, didn't you get anything?" The fighter asked as they started to leave. Adaine turned to her with wide eyes, apparently just noticing this. Fig frowned.

"I…" Machaira frowned. "I guess not." She didn't put a lot of value into material goods that she couldn't eat. Besides, there wasn't really anything Gorthalax could get her that she would want or use. Still, it hurt a little to get left out, especially since Fabian had pointed it out to the whole group. But after nearly taking off the devil's hand, she couldn't really blame him.

"So, there was just nothing in your locker this morning?" Fabian asked. He seemed way more confused and worried than Machaira was.

"Wow, he must be pissed that you tried to bite him," Kristen said. Machaira clenched her jaw, hating that the cleric had echoed her thoughts.

"I mean, I never use my locker," Machaira directed her speech at Fabian, carefully ignoring Kristen. She wanted to put their squabbles behind them, but just then it was hard to look at the human without feeling the judgement from last night. "I keep all my books in my bag. I don't have that many."

"So, you haven't even checked yet?" The fighter asked. Machaira blinked. It hadn't even occurred to her to do that.

"Oh, that's right, we never went to your locker," Adaine realized. "We should take a look."

"Yeah, let's go see what you got," Fig suggested. Machaira would have preferred to just go straight to the A.V. club and visit her locker later, but the party wanted to see her reaction when she got her present. So Machaira had to endure the embarrassment of bumbling around the school trying to remember her locker number and combination. Adaine had to help her on both accounts. When Machaira finally opened her locker, she found a new sheath for her saber. The soft, dark leather had pictures of wyverns running down the front. The bottommost image showed a wyvern skull with her saber sticking out of it.

"Aren't you glad you fucking checked your locker?" Fabian asked.

"I mean… I guess?" Machaira said, turning the gift over in her hands. "It's… nice. Nicer than mine, for sure. The leatherwork is incredible. But it feels like a bit of a waste. I already have a scabbard."

"Yours is kind of falling apart, though," Riz said. He pointed to the case at her side, which was burned and corroded from hunting trips and beginning to peel from exposure to the elements.

"And this is way prettier," Fig added.

"I suppose," Machaira admitted reluctantly. She unclasped her saber from the strap of a dagger sheath that acted as her belt. Machaira swapped scabbards and slotted the new one into place at her side, pleased to note that it was exactly the same size as her old one. "Eh, nothing wrong with new gear. What should I do with my old one?" Adaine grabbed her old sheath, chucked it down the hall, and cast fireball on it.

"Honestly, that thing was gross, and Gorthalax did you a huge favor," she said to a mildly surprised Machaira. The elf's face was completely serious. Fig fell over against Gorgug laughing. Machaira shrugged, chuckled, and decided to roll with it. They made their way to the A.V. club laughing and teasing each other about other personal artifacts the wizard might be waiting to burn. If they were going to take on a cult of extremists later, this was a good way to start the day. Skrank and Shellford were in the A.V. club when they arrived, doing whatever it was A.V. club nerds did.

" 'Sup dudes," Gorgug greeted.

"Hey, guys," Adaine added.

"Uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh, yeah," Shellford answered slowly, holding up the index and pinky fingers on his right hand.

"Skrank, there was some girl that was asking for you in the parking lot," Riz said, pointing out the door.

"Huh? What?" The aarakocra faced the goblin quizzically. While an interested female was certainly juicy bait, Machaira wondered how likely Skrank was to believe it. The tabaxi assumed her usual role of sitting back and quietly watching her friends lie through their teeth. A fun job, to be sure.

"Some girl said – "

"What was her name?" Skrank interrupted Riz.

"I don't know, she was – " Fig began.

"I don't know who she was, but she wanted to talk – " Riz interrupted.

"She was super hot, and she was on a bike in a bikini." Fig interrupted his interruption, struggling to keep a straight face. Adaine frowned at Fig. Riz hid his smile behind his hand.

"She was also part bird," Fabian attempted to back up the tiefling. Gorgug managed to nod along.

"Huge bird tits," Fig said, eyes stretched wide with the effort of restraining her laughter. Gorgug and Adaine broke down, the half orc pretending to inspect something on the opposite wall and the elf fully turning to face Machaira, shoulders shaking and eyes sparkling as she poorly disguised her mirth. The scout began coughing, bending over as their ridiculous lies grew like weeds. Gods, she loved these people. Fortunately, Skrank didn't seem to notice anything wrong with seven people falling over themselves laughing as they delivered a message from an unnamed aarakocra with big tits. As Skrank began thumbing through his texts, Machaira felt a little bad for him.

"Weird, okay," the nerd squawked. "I'll go check it out. On a bicycle or a motorcycle?

"A bicycle," Fabian mostly restrained his chuckles as he lied for Fig while the bard cackled against the wall. "For sure a bicycle."

"A bikini on a bicycle, that seems like a recipe for disaster," Skrank critiqued thoughtfully. Machaira rasped, worried she might actually hack up her frog if she didn't stop holding back a full laugh.

"I think she was going to the beach, maybe," Riz theorized, sufficiently in control of his giggles to speak clearly.

"Yeah," Fabian nodded.

"On a school day?" Skrank asked, looking around through his spectacles. "What's going on?"

"I think you – "

"I think there was a photographer," Gorgug improvised over Fig. Another round of giggles.

"Yes, she's a model," Fabian added, trying to support everyone's lies. "She's a model."

"Yes!" Riz snapped and pointed to Skrank as if he just remembered something. "That's why she needs the A.V. club. She wants to get into videos."

"Yeah, and she said you're hot." Fabian bit his lip, perhaps realizing he'd laid it on a bit thick.

"She's saying it was two things," Gorgug elaborated, holding up two fingers. Fig bent her head over her bag to hide her face. Adaine's mouth was technically in a straight line, but she was working so hard to fight back a smile that her face was being sucked into two massive dimples. The elf vibrated in place with the effort of not laughing out loud. Machaira quickly faced a crystal on the wall, jacket rustling audibly as she shook.

"She was first taking her pictures. Second, thinking, hey, I wish I had my friend from the A.V. club here." Fig rocked around like a gyrosphere as Gorgug finished his round of lying. Adaine finally lost the battle against outright laughter and cast Friends on Skrank. Riz nearly keeled over. Gorgug bent double as the Friends spell took effect.

"He'll know!" Fig gasped around her laughter.

"So we have a minute," Adaine justified, pale, refined elven features split by a brick red smile.

"Alright, I'll go check it out," Skrank relented cheerfully, springing into the hall and flapping away. The whole party took a moment to reign in their giggles. Shellford had ignored the interaction, focused instead on a security feed displaying a van in the teacher's parking lot. Adaine quietly cast detect thoughts.

"Shellford, hey," Fig called down at him, putting her back to a wall and trying to look intimidating. Fabian locked the door. "Does anyone else look at this footage other than you?"

"Um, yeah," the turtle answered.

"Who?" Fig asked. Adaine stared at Shellford intently. Machaira moved to stand somewhere between Adaine and Shellford without blocking the wizard's line of sight, just in case the nerd realized something was wrong and made a run for it.

"Yeah, a lot of people look at it," Shellford said, neither answering the question nor appearing visibly intimidated.

"Cool." Fig cocked her head, eyes hard and dark. "Oh, I meant to ask you. Where is, uh, that other guy that you hang out with? Where is that guy today?"

"Biz?"

"Biz, yeah, where's Biz?" Fig asked.

"Uh, Biz got his fucking ass demolished," Shellford said without sympathy. "He's in the hospital." Machaira glared just a bit.

"Why?" Fig demanded. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Shellford responded slowly. "We're not, like, super close."

"Who are you close with?" Riz asked. Adaine's face fell into a pitiful frown.

"Uh, I'm not a fucking loser, so I fucking keep to myself 'cause no one at this school is fucking cool." Shellford looked at them with a slow condescension.

"Alright," Fabian eventually responded, crossing his arms. Fig snuck Adaine a wink before wheeling on Shellford

"So why did you do it, huh?" The tiefling challenged, getting in his face. "Why did you beat up Biz?" Adaine grimaced. Shellford pointed at the bard.

"Listen, nothing in the world would be easier than for me to take my fucking nunchucks," Shellford drawled, pulling a set of nunchucks out of his back pocket. "And fucking take Biz apart." Fig looked to Adaine who gave her a timid smile and a shrug. Fig turned back on Shellford and grabbed his nunchucks.

"Whoa, those are vintage," Shellford yelled, finally speaking at a normal speed. "Those are real nunchucks!"  
"Yeah, then maybe – " Fig began, towering over the turtle and swinging the nunchucks around.

"Hey, hey, hey," Adaine admonished softly. "Give him his nunchucks back." Machaira studied the elf curiously. What was she hearing in Shellford's mind? Fig shrugged and handed the geek his nunchucks. Shellford took them with a huff.

"The only reason I let you disarm me was because I think it would be unfair if you were unarmed." Fabian loosed a hearty pirate laugh, and Machaira snorted in derision.

"Idiot," Fabian exclaimed. Machaira growled an agreement, tail weaving slowly from side to side. If Shellford resisted long enough, Fig might let her and Fabian rough him up a bit. She did love the crunch of a turtle shell in her teeth.

"We don't want to fight you," Adaine stepped in quickly. "We're just worried about some stuff that is going on in this school. Do you know what Biz was working on? 'Cause we heard a rumor that it was something to do with a palimpsest." Adaine's voice was friendly, but her eyes were more worried than anything. Machaira silently gave up her fledgling dream of crunching a nice turtle shell that day.

"Palimpsest?" Shellford repeated, beak turning up in a sneer. "He mentioned some shit about that, but I honestly was super fucking bored." Machaira was ready to clock him around the head. Adaine sighed, short, sharp, and sad.

"You know…" the high elf began, gesturing toward Shellford, who leaned to the side and held up the back of each hand with a cocky grin. "I don't want to seem rude, but like – "

"Too late," Shellford cut her off. Adaine curled her fingers, expression somewhere between pity and frustration.

"What happened with that – what were you just looking at with the – was there a van or something?" Gorgug stammered, peering at Shellford.

"Yeah, I'm writing a ticket," Shellford explained, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the screen. "There's a van in the teacher's parking lot."

"Oh, we can take that down for you," Adaine offered quickly. Machaira didn't know why the wizard was trying so hard to be nice, but she trusted her friend's judgement. Fig started to protest. "No, we can take the ticket down."

"Yeah, we'll put the ticket on the – " Fabian began quietly, apparently deciding to go along with the high elf.

"Okay, sure," Shellford interrupted, handing Adaine the ticket.

"We love enforcing the law," Fig told him. Machaira quirked a smile.

"Can I get back to work now?" He asked, spreading his hands. "Or do you guys have more shit you want to talk about?" Adaine pulled a stressed, unhappy frown. Machaira tasted the air, drawing scents of fear from Shellford and traces of dismay and… sympathy(?) from Adaine. Machaira shifted, uncertain what to do.

"Does Daybreak hang out here?" Riz asked.

"Uuuhhhh, no. He's around sometimes 'casue he's a teacher, and he has the authority to watch the footage."

"Does he watch it more than the other teachers?"

"What kind of footage is he looking at?" Adaine followed Riz's question before Shellford could respond, face shifting from unease to interest. "He just seems like a creep, you know?"

"Um, as creepy as six fucking losers who fucking lock the door to talk to somebody?"

"I mean, as creepy as somebody who volunteers to watch all of the video in the school?" Adaine shot back immediately, all displeasure giving way to offended disdain only to switch to regret just as fast.

"Um, okay, loser!" Shellford put an **L** to his forehead as he said it. "So, uh, pff, pretty much, I'll catch you guys later unless you have anything else you want to bother me about?"

"You know, kindness begets kindness, Shellford." Adaine's face and voice were firm, but her eyes were not without pity. Machaira grimly wondered when Adaine would turn that pitiful rebuke on her. After an awkward moment staring Shellford down, Adaine fast walked out of the A.V. room

"Alright, fucking doinks," Shellford called after them, crossing his arms and holding out both pinky and index fingers. What on earth was that supposed to mean? "I'm happy."

"That is the saddest person I've ever met," Adaine said the moment they were out of earshot. The wizard related some of what Shellford had been thinking. Machaira winced, deeply relieved that she hadn't gnawed his shell. "But he is not involved with – "

"'I'm happy,' god," Fabian quoted, staring at the ground as he tried to process the nerd's horrendous emotional state. Machaira guessed that she hadn't been the only one considering roughing him up.

"Okay, well, so they have footage of us…" Riz trailed off. "We can't talk here."

"No, let's keep, yeah…" Adaine murmured vaguely, still disturbed by Shellford's depression.

"Should we go to the…" Gorgug thought for a moment. "Do you guys want to just check out the…"

"Van?" Fabian guessed.

"Yeah," Gorgug nodded. Adaine agreed.

"Let's go to the van," Riz seconded.

"We said we'd put the ticket on it, so…" Fabian shrugged.

"What does the ticket say?" Gorgug asked. Kristen jogged up at that moment, eyes wide.

"I should go home," she panted slowly.

"You didn't ask anybody about cult literature, did you?" Riz checked.

"I did," Kristen admitted. "But don't worry, I was really smooth about it."

"No, you weren't." Machaira immediately stated.

"They think I'm writing a paper," Kristen protested. "And it – _Blood-Soaked Nails_ was already checked out."

"Yeah, of course," Fabian muttered.

"I have to call my parents, I guess," Kristen told them.

"You do it," Fig replied mildly. Adaine and Riz muttered assents. "We're going to ticket a van."

"Check out a van but say that we're ticketing it," Adaine elaborated.

"What happened?" Gorgug asked.

"I just got a text that said emergency from my parents," Kristen explained.

"Should we go to Kristen's house?" Riz asked slowly.

"Yes!" Kristen exclaimed.

"We'll go with you," Adaine promised.

"Call them first," Fig asserted.

"Yes, but let's check on this van really quickly," Adaine added. "Yeah, call your parents on the way down." Kristen called her mom as they made their way to the van.

"Okay…What happened? What happened… Can I bring my friends, we're – okay!" Kristen hung up and turned to Fabian. "What the fuck, okay. Can you check on the van and then speed on your bike? Or a couple people?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Fabian muttered.

"We're bringing a hell beast to a fundamental Helioic household?" Machaira clarified.

"Do you guys mind splitting up?" Kristen asked over her.

"Yeah, why don't we just go… should we go straight to her place?" Riz polled the group.

"Let's just go to your place," Gorgug voted.

"Let's just drop the ticket off and then we'll go to your place," Fig suggested.

"Yeah, it's on the way," Adaine agreed. "Let's just go – "

"Let's go to the van," Riz laughed. "Let's go to the van." As Adaine placed the ticket in the windshield wiper, Fig shook the van. Kristen cast Detect Good and Evil. Nobody found anything of note on the van besides the note they had left, so they quickly rushed over to the Applebee residence. Kristen's family stood out on the lawn with a bunch of humans that were easily recognizable as members of the church of Helio. Machaira knew them by the shocked, angry glares she got as they jogged over.

"Oh god, thank god you're here, Kristen," a dumpy paladin in unflattering jeans gushed to the cleric. "Somebody attacked the church!"

"What?" Kristen asked, eyes stretched open.

"Somebody attacked the church of Sol!" The paladin, presumably Kristen's mom, repeated. "This neighborhood is not safe. There's a bunch of people here that don't, they're nonbelievers and – " She halted suddenly, taking stock of Kristen's non-human party. Machaira lifted her right hand in a low-energy wave, giving the fanatic a good view of her bracelet.

"What do we – what do you mean – what happened? Who, what did they look like?" Kristen rushed. A priestess of Sol stepped forward. Machaira assumed this was the Pastor Amelia that had fawned over Kristen her whole life.

"Kristen," the pastor sighed. "It's okay. Your mom's a little upset. Somebody vandalized the church."

"Did they hurt anyone?" Kristen asked.

"They didn't hurt anybody," the priestess assured her. "But somebody destroyed a section of the church. The door to the rectory is missing."

"Kind of weird to call your daughter out of school for vandalizing – " Fig muttered to Adaine.

"'In the middle of school,' that's what I was thinking," Adaine echoed.

"You guys don't understand how important the church is to my mom," Kristen told them emphatically. The girls winced, realizing they had spoken louder than intended. Machaira agreed that this was a serious act. Any attack against a temple or church was a mean-spirited blow, intended more to antagonize and intimidate hapless believers only tangential to the organization. On the other hand, the longer she stood there and watched these humans glare and mutter at her friends, the more she thought that this wasn't the worst religious group to target. The tabaxi moved to stand between Adaine and Fig and the mob, just to air on the side of caution.

"Somebody…" Amelia began, moistening her lips and gesturing. "Somebody fully removed the entire doorway from the church, it looks like. So, that wall collapsed. We can't find the door or any of the archway or the keystone or anything like that."

"The keystone?" Gorgug asked. The humans muttered, but the half orc's confusion was so genuine that they seemed to accept his presence and curiosity better than most of the party's presence.

"Above the arch, yeah," Pastor Amelia explained.

"So you mean just the whole door to the church was blown in?" Kristen asked.

"It was the door in the back to the rectory," Amelia corrected.

"Can we talk over here for a second?" Gorgug asked.

"Wow, that's horrible," Kristen murmured. The cleric tilted her head down, but Machaira could still see the confliction in her.

"We're gonna go – we're getting a group together. We're gonna do a vigil, and we're gonna do a little fundraiser." The pastor told Kristen. "And your mom thought you should be here because you're a chosen." She smiled at Kristen. By contrast, Kristen's mom was frantic, which seemed to be the vibe for all the gathered humans. Mutterings about being victims floated about, rumors of nonbelievers and jealous nonhumans taking root. In general, Pastor Amelia was the only calming influence in the crowd.

"Oh, was that door part of the church originally, or was that from somewhere else?" Gorgug asked Amelia. Machaira's ears perked. The question seemed to come from nowhere, but it was so astute that the tabaxi was a little surprised Gorgug had thought of it at all. She memorized this moment to use if Gorgug ever said he was stupid again. Pastor Amelia also seemed surprised, but she lacked Machaira's pride in the half-orc. Instead she regarded the barbarian for a minute, eyes half-narrowed.

"Well, kiddo, the…" She laughed a bit, but the mirth didn't reach her eyes. "Actually, it was one of the highlights of the church. It was a recovered piece of an older monastery. We actually – that doorway's centuries old. It was kind of a big, important, highlight of the church."

"Do you know where that door, where that church originally was?" Gorgug asked.

"From Highcourt," Amelia answered promptly. Gorgug hummed, and the party exchanged looks. Machaira wasn't an expert on religion, but she understood the power of symbolism. Her entire faith revolved around symbolic acts of sacrifice between her and her goddess. If that door was part of an older temple that was taken and claimed in the name of Sol, it would have powerful symbolic energy to draw on for a ritual.

"Cool, well, we're gonna go over there and just pray about it," Kristen said after a moment.

"That's great," the priestess told her. "That'd be great. Tell your friends that we're gonna do a little fundraiser, do a little vigil."

"Cool, we'll bake some, ah, cookies," Adaine improvised, turning up her elven charm.

"Mm-hmm, that's great," the pastor said quickly. Others in the crowd were more openly suspicious of the high elf and her wizard paraphernalia. Machaira kept her mane flat, but it was a struggle.

"Great, alright, guys," Kristen called them over to the other side of the lawn and lowered her voice. "Hey, we can talk, but we just all have to hold hands 'cause then it looks like we're praying."

"Yeah, that's cool, we can hold hands," Fig agreed.

"That's fine," Fabian muttered, though his expression said otherwise.

"I might have to let go to cast a spell, but I'll make it look like I'm scratching my nose or something." Adaine warned. The high elf took Machaira's hand before they had even circled up and interlocked their fingers while everyone else clasped palms. Machaira closed her eyes and gently squeezed the wizard's hand to hide how much the gesture stung. It was something so simple and so personal that it almost physically bit into her after last night's reflection. The rogue dipped her head and kept her distress internal.

"Just bow your heads and say whatever you want," Kristen told them.

"Yeah, guys," Riz breathed. "So, um, I think that doorway might be like the thing that somebody would need to go through."

"It's a portal," Fabian summarized.

"You think with a portal – "

"To make the apocalypse happen," Riz finished as Gorgug was talking.

"Right, can we go over there, and I can do an Identify type of situation?" Adaine whispered.

"I think we should definitely do that," Kristen agreed.

"The door's not at the church anymore," Fabian reminded them.

"No, I didn't mean – "

"She could do the area around it," Kristen objected over Adaine.

"But doesn't anyone else feel like perhaps it could have something to do with the bank?" Fig proposed.

"I mean, maybe," Adaine admitted. "But I think it's like – "

"If there's something that they're protecting there?" Fig reiterated.

"If something has been magically disappeared…" Adaine began. "Like, they said it was disappeared. They didn't say it was taken."

"I thought they said it was grabbed?" Riz countered. "Did they mean the wall?"

"I don't think they know," Machaira reasoned. "They just know that the door is gone, and someone removed it intentionally."

"They said someone pulled it out," Gorgug remembered.

"Yeah, but you can't take an entire doorway," Adaine protested. "That's a magical thing."

"Well, let's go and look for clues," Kristen suggested. "That's the closest thing we can…" Kristen looked up and called over to her pastor. "We're gonna head over there and, um, pray closer to it."

"You are ordained, Kristen, and we're happy to have you." The priestess reminded her, hands clasped and face aglow with admiration for the cleric. "We know that your faith is as rock solid and unshakeable as Sol's power. And if anything ever happened to your faith, this community would collapse. It would be chaos."

"Praise Helio, we've gotta go," Adaine said loudly, eyes wide as she tried to disguise disdain as fervor. The tabaxi swallowed her grudge and put a hand on Kristen's shoulder. Machaira knew that had to hurt Kristen on a deep level, but a savage part of her thought that if the faith of this community was so weak then it deserved to collapse.

"Thank you so much," the cleric gushed as they took off. "I, thank you so much." Fig cast a minor illusion to hide the cover of Kristen's world religions book. While the church was locked, it was not an active crime scene. Adaine cast Detect Magic as everyone began to snoop. There was rubble everywhere, but Machaira wasn't sure how someone could physically remove a doorway from a wall fast enough that it wouldn't get noticed.

"Oh, so this, I think, was done through magic," Adaine announced, eyes glowing blue as she inspected the wall. "Bu also through strength. This is a team effort. This is not one person, it feels like."

"So, you think they physically moved it out?' Gorgug gestured as he spoke. "And then they physically had to move it away?"

"I think, fuck," Adaine cursed, face slack as she compiled evidence. "I think somebody softened the stone around it, and then somebody else who was made to be incredibly strong, or maybe several people, I don't know, pulled the doorway away."

"Perhaps some paladin and a barbarian?" Fabian guessed. Kristen picked up a djembe drum from the choir section and started playing it.

"That's what I'm thinking," Fig backed Fabian. Riz took a cast of a footprint before they moved outside to check the exterior. Riz popped out his magnifying glass and inspected the street.

"I've got skid marks," he called out. "A large four-wheeled vehicle."

"Does it look like a fucking van?" Fig asked pointedly.

"The van," Gorgug repeated, spreading his arms and laughing.

"We gotta get back to the van," Riz urged.

"Alright, back to school," Fabian agreed grimly.

"But what, let's make a plan before we go back, 'cause then we're gonna be on crystal the whole time we're there." Kristen insisted.

"I mean, if – "

"I know what we'll do," Fig cut Fabian off. "We've got – we put the ticket on there, so I can go and pretend to just be, or one of us can go, or a group of us can go and pretend to be just rudely enforcing the ticket."

"Can you – " Adaine started.

"And see if anyone's in the van." Fig finished over her.

"Can you dress as, like, another teacher?" Adaine inquired. "Can you disguise yourself as another teacher and investigate it?"

"Always," Fig assured her cheerfully.

"I'll just stand far way like when we were in the parking lot," Gorgug announced.

"Do we really need the smoke and mirrors at this point?" Machaira asked. "It feels like if they have the door to make the portal then they can just start the apocalypse at any time."

"What if," Kristen yelled over her at Fig. "Okay, so we're pretty sure Coach Daybreak is in the middle of this. What if I go and talk to Coach Daybreak and try to keep him in a room talking to him as long as I can about religion, and you are him? It feels like he's in the center of this." They debated various tactics for fooling Daybreak the whole way back to the school. By the time they arrived back a Aguefort it was twilight. The back doors of the van were open. Both Adaine and Kristen found magical trails leading to the bloodrush field.

"Oh no, the bloodrush field," Adaine lamented. "We have to go talk to those jocks." Machaira smirked. Kristen cleared her throat, and when she next began to speak, divine power once more charged her words, though where she was receiving it the scout could not say.

"You guys, I'm not gonna mix words, okay? There's no god."

"There's tons of them," Machaira immediately corrected her. Riz laughed, and Adaine stared with wide, unbelieving eyes.

"There's no devil," Kristen added. Adaine squinted at her as if looking for head injuries. Or at least, that's definitely what Machaira was looking for.

"We've seen at least one," Riz countered.

"It's gonna get inspired," Gorgug promised Fig.

"There's no hope." Kristen declared dramatically.

"We talked to one yesterday," Riz pressed.

"There's definitely gods and devils," Adaine stated, frowning in confusion

"Dozens if not hundreds," Machaira reinforced, wondering how again this girl became a cleric.

"Everything is random," Kristen swept on. "And not the good random, like you go to Vegas and you're excited because it's random."

"Where is Vegas?" Fabian inquired.

"Bad random," Kristen continued without explanation. "Oh, that was my brother, and he was just smashed by a, a… hound."

"What?" Gorgug asked. Adaine's eyes went wide again, mouth fluctuating between frown and smirk as she struggled to hold in her giggles. Machaira was glad to see that she wasn't the only one with questions.

"When you're really young and a hound looks big," Kristen elaborated the wrong part of that statement.

"This is an oddly specific example," Machaira noticed.

"What is Vegas?" Fabian wondered.

"And we don't know!" Kristen exclaimed.

"Do you mean a wolf smashed him?" Gorgug asked.

"There's no rhyme or reason," Kristen preached. "Wind chimes are fucking annoying because of how erratic they are, okay?"

"Kristen, do you want a glass of water?" Machaira asked, legitimately concerned for the cleric's health now.

"It's not good that it's random," Kristen yelled over her. "There's no good in it. And maybe…"

"This is the part," Gorgug whispered to Fig.

"Maybe it's nice that we all found each other," Kristen supposed. "Because I'm glad that we're all friends. And we all bring something different to the group, and maybe that's all for a reason. Maybe it was so nice that I met you all, and it's a perfect fit." The cleric's eyes developed a manic light, and Machaira decided to keep her doubts to herself. "And someone out there is looking out for you, OR MAYBE NOT! Or maybe the blood-soaked nails are still in my hands – "

"But at least we're together, right?" Adaine demanded fearfully, drawing closer to Machaira.

"Yeah," Kristen confirmed.

"Yes!" Fabian roared. Everyone applauded the end of the disturbing speech even as divine energy invigorated them. Fig disguised herself as a Harvestman. Seconds later a colossal, unearthly shrieking ripped over the clacking of breaking stone from the bloodrush field.

"Oh, run!" Adaine urged them. They sprinted to the bloodrush field. Fig kept trying to take the lead, but Gorgug insisted on pushing her behind him. They came out on the far side of the field from the school. Sitting at the end of the field was an enormous stone archway pulsing with infernal energy, presumably from the church. On the other side sat a small, open chest. Coach Daybreak and a legion of skeletal bloodrush players, padding hanging from their frames, turned as one to look at their party. Coach Daybreak smiled.

"Kristen, good to see you, kiddo," the coach growled quietly, eyes alight with triumph.

"Right," Kristen breathed.

"Tryouts are over, my man," the Coach told Fabian.

"Oh, god," Fabian muttered.

"But you know what? Just for today, let's PLAY BALL!" Coach drew his spear, and the skeletons readied their weapons. Machaira unsheathed her saber, nerves draining away. Adaine glanced at her and smiled, relaxing from her stiff position a bit as Machaira readied her blade, mind wiped clean of everything save the anticipation of combat, power rushing through her veins. She growled, imagining Daybreak's blood seeping between the flagstones of the granite field, enforcing its name. This bastard had set in motion events that had almost killed her friends many times over. For the first time that day, Machaira was not afraid.

With her friends behind her and enemies before her, she was alive.


	14. Battle of the Bloodrush Brethren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's Play Ball!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finding a way to incorporate a seventh player into this fight was difficult, so I just upped Coach Daybreak's level to give him more health.
> 
> After the next chapter, we will enter a long period of downtime in which the campaign's canon events will only appear sparingly. This will make up the bulk of the original content.
> 
> As always, enjoy and Please comment. It makes my day to read and reply to comments

**Chapter 10: Battle of the Bloodrush Brethren**

"Hey, Kristen, when this was in your church, were all those skulls there?" Fig asked about the doorway beside them. Everything from the arch itself to the wall it was set in was embedded with the skulls of humanoids and monsters. The keystone at the culmination of the arch was in fact an antelope skull. A curved row of human skulls along the slate base formed a portico extending from the arch, the inside of which glowed purple with kinetic magical potential.

"Yeah, did you have all those skulls?" Fabian inquired.

"What's up with these skulls?" Adaine wondered aloud.

"Did that never strike you as unfriendly?" Machaira questioned.

"There were just a few skulls, but they were more like to remember what not to be." Kristen explained calmly.

"Okay, uh-huh," Fabian muttered.

"That's a red flag," Adaine spoke for the group. Coach Daybreak blew his whistle. The last colors of the setting sun fell over the charging skeletons.

"Hangman, to the Bloodrush field, post haste," Fabian called mildly. "Oh, fantastic… Just make sure on the yellows to, like, push through… fantastic." Okay, so their hell beast was stuck in traffic. Marvelous. Fabian charged diagonally across the field to the far left, just passing the red and white mid-line (Machaira neither knew nor cared what the technical names for bloodrush things were). Coach Daybreak darted out to meet him, mirroring the fighter's movements. When he reached Fabian, the coach surged forward and slashed the half-elf across the chest with his spear, splitting Fabian open from shoulders to ribs.

"Shouldn't have come back to the field, kiddo," Coach Daybreak reprimanded. "You got no heart!"

"Ha, is that the best you've got?" Fabian shot back, blood splattering the flagstones and seeping into the new groove in his sternum.

"Yeah," Fig cheered. Adaine stepped forward from the back of the group and cast Fly on Gorgug before striding out to stand before the oncoming skeletons.

"What are you doing?" Gorgug asked. "What's happening?"

"You can fly now," Adaine told Gorgug.

"What?" The half orc exclaimed.

"Good luck," Adaine called back cheerfully as she took up her position before the portal. The high elf did not seem at all intimidated by the undead jocks running towards her, cleated footfalls clanking in time with the rattle of armor on bone.

"Hoot, growl, hoot, growl, hoot, growl," they droned, bearing down like a tidal wave. A lone skeleton stood in the back, holding a smoking purple orb in hand, arm cocked back to throw it. Riz's head flitted between the quarterback and a skeletal warrior on the far end of the field just passing Fabian. The goblin ran in front of the portal and drew his arquebus, bouncing on his toes and reading himself to play goalie.

"They're gonna throw the ball to him," Riz yelled in elvish, pointing to the skeleton on the far left.

"What happened?" Gorgug asked. Riz whispered the message to their barbarian. Fig ran over to Daybreak, still disguised as a Harvestman.

"Hey, I'm here to help you clean up this mess," The tiefling told him in a low, grunting parody of how an adult man sounded. Kristen giggled.

"Hell yeah, brother. Get in here, help out." Daybreak called over, treating Fig to a friendly smile. He was completely unconcerned about this unknown Harvestman randomly showing up to an event he probably wasn't expected to be at. Fig gave him a thumbs up and turned to the skeletal receiver.

"Hey, give me the ball. Pass me the ball." She urged, holding out her arms like she was going to catch a beach ball.

"Rraaahhhhh," the skeleton changed course to run right at Fig.

"Huh," Fig commented, hands still held out toward the charging undead. She turned to wink at Riz. Unlike the others, Riz did not seem flustered by Fig's bardic inspiration and gave the bard a thumbs up as the golden glow settled around him. Kristen raised her staff and blessed Adaine, Gorgug, and Fig before running out to stand ten feet in front of Riz, staff held like a bat towards the undead. Gorgug stared about the chaos and went into a rage.

"Yaaaaahhhhhhhh," he yelled, flying only about three feet above the ground, head pointed forward, arms pointed behind him. He cocked back his great ax and swung, breaking the receiving skeleton into bones and dust. Machaira noticed the quarterback eying a different skeleton on the opposite side of the field and moved up to stand in front and to the right of Adaine and Kristen. Bill Seacaster had made a good point when he said that they left they're spell casters unprotected. She crouched and readied herself to cut down an attacking skeleton. The quarterback threw the orb, and the new receiver caught it easily.

"Good pass, good hustle on the field," Daybreak called gruffly.

"Yeah, we're winning, right, Daybreak," Fig addressed the coach in her terrible adult voice. Fabian lashed out, rapier slicing through coach's sweatshirt. Daybreak leaned aside mid strike, and Fabian's rapier left only a small cut on his arm.

"Yeah, don't see the moves from tryouts today!" Coach taunted, slashing Fabian across the chest a second time. Adaine cast Web on the four skeletons furthest to the right, encasing a twenty foot cube of space in magical bindings. Three smaller skeletons, including the one with the orb, managed to leap and doge around the obstacle, but the hulking skeleton of an orcish bruiser was ensnared, rasping a complaint. Two skeletons ran for Gorgug while another went after Kristen. The skeleton with the orb sprinted for the doorway while the remaining two charged Adaine. But the rogues were waiting for them.

Machaira, attack readied, moved to meet the skeletons running for Adaine, cutting the first one in half with her saber. Riz took aim at the skeleton with the orb. Adaine used the breathing room Machaira provided to turn toward Riz and hold out her hand. Her eyes glowed blue as the diviner once more bent reality to her will. The chains of fate materialized around the goblin, who glowed with Adaine's power and turned his arquebus at the last moment to perfectly shoot the orb out of the skeleton's hands. The doorway started to glow a sickly shade of dark red as the skeleton dove for the door. Riz's bullet shot the orb straight up. The inquisitive goblin caught the orb as the skeleton crashed headlong into the door.

"The Ball has the ball," Riz shouted.

"THE BALL HAS THE BALL!" The whole party echoed, cheering for their detective.

"The ball has to go back in the chest, people," Fig called in elvish. "That's what has to happen." One of the skeletons made it past Machaira and tackled Adaine, pinning her to the ground. Another jumped for Kristen, but the cleric bopped it on the head with her staff, knocking it prone. The two by Gorgug tried to tackle him and immediately ended up flat on the deck.

"HA!" Gorgug cheered as he tossed them aside. Riz dashed fully across the field to Gorgug and hopped on his back.

"Get us to the goal, baby!" Riz shouted. "I know how… this game works." He smiled confidently, fooling nobody. Everyone giggled. Fig ran back at the skeletons and cast a Cone of Fear, striking a power chord and emitting waves of pure rock over the skeletons that had attacked Adaine and Kristen. The sonic vibrations condensed into the image of a giant bulldog gnawing furiously on a bone. The four skeletons, including the one on top of Adaine, gasped, knees clattering together, and clanked away with their arms in the air. Machaira had been under the impression that undead were immune to fear spells, but apparently Daybreak had some second-rate undead on his hands.

"We're on the same team, guy," Fig called out to Daybreak, her fake adult voice cracking from giggles. Kristen ran over to Gorgug and held aloft _On the Subject of World Religions_.

"Sometimes it's sad to have more questions than answers, but, uh… Living La Vida Loca!" The cleric's spell made no sense to Machaira, but some divine power must have been channeled because the two skeletons attacking Gorgug exploded into dust. With Riz on his back, the barbarian rose into the air and flew for the chest. For a second, Machaira thought the fight was over.

"Fucking loser!" About three quarters of the way across, Ragh Barkrock appeared, charging across the roof of the viewing stands and tackling Gorgug out of the air. Both berserkers crashed to the ground, Ragh pinning Gorgug beneath him.

"I need to be good at sports right now," Riz lamented as he fell, tucking into a roll as any good Ball would and springing to his feet with the orb in hand. Fig grinned as the glow of bardic inspiration faded around the goblin. Ragh drew a sword from his back and slashed Gorgug across the face.

"You fucking loser," Ragh yelled. "You fucking go after Coach, dude, I'll fucking kill you!" Gorgug bashed Ragh with his ax blade twice, splattering both barbarians with blood. The two grunted, shouted, and pummeled each other with their weapon handles. The half-orcs rolled about on the field, the force of their punches resonating through their opponents to crack the stones beneath them.

"My god, I wanna go after Coach now," Fig muttered.

"This is hot," Kristen declared, watching the two boys grapple and bloody each other. Machaira, sensing that Adaine would be safe for the moment, dashed behind Coach Daybreak and swiped at him. Where other rogues depended on insight or stealth to land the perfect blow, the power of the scout lay in high precision at high speed. Her saber tore through the Coach's side, splattering blood across the flagstones.

"How does it feel to be the only faculty member who's completely expendable?" Machaira asked, voice dripping with ridicule as she sandwiched the coach between her and Fabian.

"Ha," the fighter laughed, stabbing Daybreak through the arm with his rapier. Fabian breathed deeply, elven magic swirling around him, bringing with it the clean, fresh salt of sea air. His eyes gleamed brighter as his gashes partially closed, blood flow slowing to a crawl. Daybreak wasted no time in slashing Fabian again, tearing a horizontal gash through the half-elf's pectorals. Fabian staggered, and the human swept out with the shaft of his spear, knocking Fabian flat on his back.

"Hey, better luck next time," the Coach told him before turning for Riz. As the coach moved to run away, Machaira was presented with an opportunity. She snuck her saber into his back, and Daybreak grunted as he jogged away, blood spreading from a new puncture in his sweatshirt.

As Machaira turned to follow, she saw Adaine cast Witch Bolt on the skeleton in the archway. Lighting arced from her fingertips, frying the skeleton into a pile of charred bones. Machaira whooped. She loved to watch the diviner kick ass. Adaine turned to her, grinning, before realizing that her Web spell had ended and the skeletal bruiser was free. She quickly ducked around the side of the arch to avoid standing directly in the way of the portal.

"Bye bye," Adaine called cheekily after the four skeletons still feared as they rushed off the field, bones chattering in their panicked retreat from Fig's sonic bulldog. The bruiser ran at Fig, cleats sparking against the fieldstones.

"But I'm a, but I'm a, but I'm a Harvestman," Fig tried, forgetting to use her terrible adult voice as she offered her attacker a weak smile. In the end her disguise didn't need to work because when the skeleton tried to tackle her, Fig flinched and it crashed to the ground with a clatter. Machaira's attention snapped to Riz as the orb in his hands crackled with purple magical energy. The field cracked and yielded forth skeletal arms, three new bloodrush players crawling from the earth around Riz. Three swords slashed at the goblin, who managed to fully dodge one and avoid the worst of a second blow but took the third full to the shoulder. The skeletal quarterback readied himself by the chest, preparing to defend his goal or whatever it was people did in this game.

Riz made a nimble escape from the three skeletons and ran center field past the wrestling barbarians. Realizing that he was between Coach Daybreak and a well prepared undead quarterback, Riz glanced over to Kristen and tucked the orb back, ready to throw it to the cleric if anyone came for him. Fig turned on the Coach and struck a low, thrumming chord. Waves of Dissonant Whispers rolled out over Daybreak, but the human turned around and grinned at her, blood splattered across the side of his face.

"You can't get in here," he told her lowly, eyes lit with manic energy. "God made it rock solid." He waved a hand from the top to the bottom of his face, and bright light surrounded his head.

"Oh yeah, well I'm still doing damage, fucker," Fig blustered. "Also, you thought I was a Harvestman, you fool." With that, her disguise fully faded. Fig winked at Riz again, and a golden haze settled over the goblin once more.

"Wow, alright," the goblin accepted happily. It seemed The Ball's resistance to Fig's charm was limited.

"Don't get any ideas because I got a little someone named Dr. Asha," Fig warned with a grin. Kristen ran over to Fabian and touched his shoulder, casting Cure Wounds. Fabian's wounds shrank from life-threatening to inconvenient as whatever divinity Kristen was channeling filled the fighter.

_BAM!_ Gorgug kicked Ragh in the sternum and flung him off. The bully crashed to the ground next to Riz, and Gorgug scrambled to his feet. The barbarian flew to stand between Riz and Daybreak, great ax leveled across his chest. Unfortunately, Ragh wasn't out of the fight. The bloodrush player pushed himself up and whirled on Riz, hacking at him with his sword. Riz tried to hop aside, and a swing that should have taken off his head only cracked his femur. But the goblin was wounded and too slow to evade a second blow that sliced into his back.

Daybreak's encouragement was cut off with a strangled shout as Machaira pursued the Coach, driving her saber into his back with a furious snarl. The human glared at her, and Machaira spat in his face, eyes blazing as she moved to stand between him and the boys, tail snapping from side to side. Daybreak could not advance without leaving himself open to another attack, not unless he wanted to waste time fending her off. Machaira was determined to run this man down like a dog.

"You can't stop god's plan," Daybreak told her.

"No, but I can totally stop yours," she growled, mane fluffed to its full extent. Her eyes glowed in the twilight shadows, reflecting bright yellow light over the coach's scowl. Daybreak and Machaira leveled their blades, muscles tensing as they prepared to reengage. But the Coach had forgotten about Fabian. The fighter scrambled to his feet and ran past the melee to grab Riz, scooping him up without breaking stride.

"I mean, I should be on the bloodrush team," the half-elf yelled, making direct eye-contact with Daybreak as he passed. "I belong on this team!"

"What the heeelll?" Daybreak yelled as Fabian sprinted like a deer toward the chest, carrying the ball and The Ball. The skeletal quarterback surged forward to meet them as the boys approached. Fabian Heisman-pushed the skeleton aside, both stumbling sloppily as the fighter bulled past. Fabian cheered and he dunked both balls into the chest. The half-elf immediately whirled on Daybreak and gave him the middle finger.

"What's good?" Fabian shouted at the Coach, briefly losing all of the air that he normally put on. "Fuck you, dog! Wooooooo! WOOOOOOOOO!" Unfortunately, he had completely forgot about Riz, who had been happily riding along up until the point he'd been chucked into the chest of hell like dirty laundry.

"We are not dunking The Ball," Adaine declared emphatically, eyes glowing blue from the other side of the field. As the goblin desperately struggled to grab the edge of the chest, she held out her hand and revealed the links of destiny around the rogue once more. The mystic chains snapped, history rewriting itself in accordance with Adaine's will. Her magic took effect just as the chest began to shut, and Riz barely escaped, movements almost supernaturally fast as time sped up around him.

"Pow," Fabian taunted Daybreak, punching the air for emphasis. "Pow, pow, pow." Riz and Fabian tried to butt bump awkwardly as the skeletons vaporized. Daybreak barreled past Machaira and Gorgug toward Fabian, Riz, and the chest. Machaira struck the second his back was turned, scoring the coach a shallow wound across the back of the leg. Gorgug and Daybreak swung at each other as the coach passed him, spear and axe clanking harmlessly off each other. The fanatic stopped about ten feet away from the goblin and the half-elf.

"Nice play, kid," Daybreak ground out, eyes wide, blood bubbling from his throat. "But we're going into overtime." The patter of dress shoes on stone announced Adaine's run up the field toward Daybreak. She pointed at the human and cast Ray of Sickness. A green stream of liquid sailed hundred twenty feet, originating from a tiny point on her fingertip to fly between Ragh and Gorgug and hit Daybreak right in the kidneys. What happened next would stay with them forever.

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh," Coach screamed as he shit his pants with a sound like the world's biggest, wettest lawnmower starting up. His sweatpants and boxers dropped a full foot from the force of his bowels instantly evacuating their full contents, giving them a very much unwanted view of his hairy ass and small dick. The spell hit him so hard the human bled from his eyes, snot streaming down his face. Adaine whined, shivering with disgust at her own handiwork. The smell rolled over Machaira, and she gagged, tongue lolling from her mouth at the revolting attack on her senses. During this Riz grabbed the chest and dragged it off the right side of the field behind the scoreboard. The goblin leaned over the chest from his hiding spot, arquebus at the ready in case anyone tried to follow.

"Oh god, oh god, time to pull out the big guns," Daybreak groaned, drawing a palimpsest from his pocket. "Hoot, growl, hoot, growl, hoot, growl." He smashed the crystal on the ground, and an owlbear appeared on the field.

"Hhrrrrrrrrr – hoo hoo," the owlbear cried, shaking itself off.

"That's incredible," Fabian said lowly, squinting at the owlbear with more interest than fear.

"Whoo whoo whoo," the owlbear called as it ran down the field for Adaine, predatory senses locking onto the slightest and most fearful of the group. Machaira loosed a rough cough as it passed and slashed, cutting it across the leg, but the owlbear did not lose interest. The owlbear loomed above Adaine, massive paws raised to attack. Fig ran away from the wizard toward the others.

'Where are you going?" Adaine shrieked.

"You got it, girl," Fig called back distantly, like she was only half listening to the terrified mage. The tiefling was much more focused on Daybreak. "Oh, I can't get in your head?" She played another song of Dissonant Whispers. Coach cowered, yelling as the music rolled over him. "Yeah, I'm in your head." Fig turned and winked at Adaine.

"That's so confusing right now," Adaine complained as the pretty golden light surrounded her in the shadow of the monstrosity about to kill her.

"That's 'cause I believe in you," Fig called from her safe position away from the owlbear.

"You're a weirdly sexual fifteen-year-old," Adaine responded. Machaira winced even as she ran to her friend's defense.

"What should I do?" Kristen yelled in elvish.

"WWRMD," Fig replied. "What would Ricky Martin do?" Who? Machaira was very confused, but this seemed to make sense to Kristen. The cleric ran horizontally across the field and cast hold person on Ragh.

"What are you – " Ragh choked as the redhead held her hand aloft and froze him in place.

"Freeze," Kristen commanded. "I want to talk to you."

"Stop picking on me," Gorgug demanded of the defenseless senior, wailing on him with his great ax. One, two, three strikes and Ragh dropped, blooding spreading across the field from his wounds. Gorgug was showered in bone shards and viscera. "See ya." With that parting comment, Gorgug flew towards Adaine; but Machaira was already there. The tabaxi yowled and pounced at the owlbear, leaping onto its back and stabbing her saber straight down into the muscle of its neck. The creature spasmed beneath her, staggering drunkenly from the force and violence of her attack.

"Don't you DARE!" She bellowed, consumed with protective fury. "That one is not prey."

"Ggrrrrrrr – hoo hoo," the owlbear shrieked, bucking and twisting as it tried to reach her with its claws and beak.

"Aaauuurrrgghhhhh," Machaira roared in response, ears back and teeth bared, holding on by her sword hilt and claws. "AAAAAUUUUUUURRRRR–RRGHHHHH!" The scout heaved back, using her imbedded blade as a cruel form of rein to try and direct the beast away from Adaine. While Machaira rode the owlbear, an engine revved. Hellfire illuminated the night as the Hangman zoomed to Fabian's side.

"Let's play!" Fabian yelled, mounting the Hangman and driving at Daybreak. Fabian ran the coach over with his hell beast, stabbing him in the exposed dick as he did so.

"Oooohh, GOD!" The coach screamed. "It didn't go right!" Daybreak hauled himself up and waddled after Fabian, sweatpants dropping feces as he ran. The fanatic slashed the half-elf twice, splattering blood across both fighters. "Ugh, uhh, bluhhg, you ain't got no heart, kid. You'll never be an owlbear." The human sputtered, vomiting on himself. "You know, hoot growl, hoot growl." Fabian stared him down and revved his motorcycle.

"Get down," Adaine ordered Machaira, stepping to the owlbear's left and channeling a burning hands spell. The rogue twisted to the owlbear's right flank as a cone of fire enveloped the creature.

"Hooooooooo – oooooo, rrrrrrrr," the owlbear screeched, flames licking at its feathers.

"Wooo, burn bastard," Machaira howled. The owlbear apparently took offense at that because it reared and shook Machaira off with a growl, flinging her to the ground. The tabaxi's back hit the stone, knocking the air from her lungs and stunning her for a second. That was all the time the owlbear needed to slash her across the chest and abdomen, talons tearing chunks of meat and bone from her breasts and ribs. Machaira screamed as her intestines were ripped out of her body, partially digested food dribbling from of her shredded gut. Pain struck her so intensely that she momentarily blacked out and didn't see the beak stab down through her sternum, breaking and crushing the bone against her heart and lungs.

Machaira's breath came fast and shallow, her pulse erratic, weak. She was so close to dying that she could already begin to smell death on herself. Sounds were fuzzy and indistinct around her. But she didn't go into shock. Machaira reacted to the attack instinctively, slowly standing to face the threat. Her guts slipped further from her body, adding to the growing sensation of lightness. Cold air blew across her organs. Gods, that was a sensation she hadn't missed. She forced her eyes to focus on the owlbear as it fell back to all fours, batting at its burning body.

"You… missed your… chance," Machaira growled, feeling cold fingers grip her heart, vision blacking. Between her sneak attack and Adaine's spell, the owlbear was as badly hurt as she was. Her sword was still stuck in its back, but she didn't need steel to kill. Machaira bunched her legs, summoning the last dregs of strength in her body. Her jaws parted, aiming for the skull. If she could get her teeth into it, she would kill it. Her last act in the Material Plane would be to keep this thing from hurting her friends. The tabaxi snarled, aware of her heartbeat faltering even as she began to push off.

"Face me in the air!" Both predators had forgotten that they were not alone. Before she could properly pounce, Gorgug flew down with a fearsome war cry and beheaded the owlbear in a single, clean stroke. Machaira stumbled as she canceled her leap, boots skidding on her own gore. "I'm sorry!" Gorgug wailed.

"Heh, good hit," she rasped, all the energy she had scrounged together for the leap dissipating. Suddenly she felt the bizarre sensation of something filling her, but not in the enjoyable, sexual sense. Kristen channeled the essence of an unknown divinity, spooling Machaira's intestines back into her body. Machaira's gashes partially sealed, blood replenishing in her veins. As her wounds reverted from already fatal to extremely painful, she became aware of an arm around her shoulders, supporting her. She looked over at the high elf holding her up, face creased in terror and relief.

"This time Gorgug got the owl," she joked to Adaine, offering her friend a grin. Adaine didn't so much laugh as gasp in shaky, silent relief. During their scrap with the owlbear, Riz had used the distraction to run out from behind the chest and shoot Daybreak in the back and then slink back into his hiding spot. Fig played a suggestion spell on her base.

"You should tell me the other names of – the names of the other teachers who are working to bring about the apocalypse with the Harvestmen." Their bard told him. The spell dissipated off the coach's thick skull. "Fuck." The tiefling winked at Kristen, who turned and winked at Adaine.

"It's not the same when you do it," the elf told Kristen flatly, causing the cleric to frown. "But can you heal the owlbear? Please, I can't kill an animal."

"Yeah," Kristen lied, holding her staff out. Her resurrection spell had no effect on the corpse. Fig winked at the owlbear head, but she couldn't give it bardic inspiration. With some of her energy returned, Machaira reluctantly separated from Adaine. She walked ten feet toward Fabian, drew her cross bow, and fired on Daybreak, piercing the back of his thigh with a bolt. Daybreak cried out.

"No one left to protect you, bastard," she growled. Fabian laughed and swung the Hangman around. Fabian floored the motorcycle and skewered Daybreak in the back with his rapier, digging in and dragging the Coach across the flagstones. Fig hocked a loogie into his eye as he passed, head bouncing off the stained rocks.

"Oh, I don't have any heart?" Fabian inquired harshly. "You stupid motherfucker!"

"Once again, this guy is kinda a role model to me," Kristen reminded them. Absolutely no one seemed to care as the rest of the party cheered and ridiculed the Harvestman. "I'm starting to have a change of heart about my friends."

"What if we decapitated Daybreak and swapped the heads of the owlbear and Daybreak?" Fig asked excitedly.

"Then bring him back and kill him again," Adaine added.

"Let's do it," Gorgug bellowed.

"Seconded," Machaira agreed with fervor as they surrounded the Coach. Kristen stared at them, horrified. Daybreak pulled himself off of Fabian's rapier, stood, and took three swings at Kristen, spraying gore into the air as his spear cleaved her chest.

"You befriended these heretics and liars?" He screamed. "You have rejected the faith, Kristen." The maimed cleric stared at him, stunned by pain and fear. "You could have brought about an end to this wicked world." He told her more quietly. Kristen tried to yawn and flinched at the pain from her injuries.

"Fuck," she groaned. Daybreak kept trying to turn to face all of them, frothing at the mouth in rage. Adaine cast Tasha's Hideous Laugher, but Coach's thick skull batted the spell away. Adaine gulped and moved back. Riz took out his rapier in the distance and raised it above his head, ready to stab Daybreak if the coach ran for the chest.

"Alright, let's do this old school," Fig announced, running for Daybreak with her bass held up like an ax.

"Fuck him up," Adaine cheered.

"Brain that motherfucker," Machaira cheered. Unfortunately, Fig wasn't much of a melee combatant and missed Daybreak completely after a huge windup. She grinned sheepishly and played a Healing Word for Kristen on her bass.

"Fuck you, Daybreak," Kristen cursed as she healed herself. Gorgug rose into the air and flew at Daybreak, hovering more than fifteen feet above them.

"Fight me in the sky – uh, oh." Gorgug realized his mistake as soon as he said it and begrudgingly landed behind Daybreak with a pout. Gorgug wailed twice on the fighter, ax sinking deep into his back. Daybreak's tattered sweatshirt fell off his body, revealing old grey chest hairs soaked in blood. But the human deflected Gorgug's third strike off his spear, return slashing the barbarian across the stomach. Machaira ran for Daybreak, growling. She lunged, saber cutting the Coach all the way down his back, slicing through the butt muscles and continuing halfway down his thigh. Daybreak stumbled, panting and looking wildly at the teenagers that surrounded him. The tabaxi snarled, flicking the blood from her blade into his eyes. Fabian drove the Hangman at Daybreak, rapier flicking across his neck. A scarlet fountain gushed from Daybreak's slit throat in broken sheets. The human sank to one knee, supporting his failing body with one hand and attempting in vain to hold back the blood with the other.

"… no… har…rt," The coach gasped, choking on his own blood.

"But funny thing about that," Fabian menaced, looming over Daybreak on his bike. "I might be taking yours!" The party stared, stunned. Adaine's mouth formed a perfect **O**. The fighter stared down at the coach but seemed to lose a little nerve as he teetered on the action, lips moving to words he wasn't fully uttering. Machaira met his eyes and gave him a shrug and jerked her head at the dying human. Whether he wanted to take Daybreak's heart or not, the half-elf should finish him quickly and be done with it.

"Hey, Fabian what's going on?" Fig asked. "You're, like, slowly mouthing some stuff to yourself." Daybreak groaned and dropped, lying face down in a spreading pool of his own blood, life seeping away across the stones he had wasted it on.

"Ah, sorry, uh, sorry, I was think about – I was thinking about actually…" The fighter took a deep breath and shuddered, repulsed by his own dark temptation. Machaira and Fig both patted him on the arm. Fig ran over to Ragh and put her boot on his throat. Fabian bent down and removed Daybreak's whistle as a spoil of war.

"Much easier to preserve than a human heart," Machaira commented mildly. Fabian laughed, nerves still frazzled. The tabaxi decided Fabian was more or less okay for the moment and padded over to Adaine. The wizard bit her lip as the scout approached, staring at Machaira with barely suppressed worry and fear. She placed her fingertips against the remaining wounds from the owlbear attack. Machaira winced, and Adaine flinched her hand back. Machaira quickly took hold of her hand and squeezed gently. She offered the high elf a tired smile and butted the crown of her head against Adaine's shoulder, stooping a bit to do so. Adaine huffed and smiled, briefly squeezing her back before they parted, each satisfied that the other was okay. Riz dragged the chest over to Fig. Gorgug picked up Daybreak's spear and inspected it for a moment before slotting the weapon across his back under the new axe holster.

"Hey, guys, come over here," Riz called. "For sure kill Daybreak, but we should talk to this guy." He pointed at Ragh.

"Let's kill Daybreak," Fig echoed excitedly. "I've got Whisper of Terrors that I've been meaning to use."

"I mean, let's tie him up," Adaine moderated. "Because, also, like, we just killed the coach. We already killed two teachers."

"They're monsters," Riz countered.

"I was gonna say you could take Daybreak's outfit, and I could impersonate him, but his pants are full of shit." Fig said.

"His pants are full of shit, and his clothes are all cut up," Adaine expanded. The wizard stayed close to Machaira as they walked over to the others. The elf busied herself mending their clothes and siphoning away blood and, in Machaira's case, food that was halfway to crap. Machaira murmured an emphatic _thanks_, and Adaine smiled, resealing the gashes in Machaira's jacket over her chest.

"Can you guys for sure kill this god monster?" Riz asked. "He's not a good guy."

"Yeah, I think we kill him," Fig said. As she spoke, Ragh's paralysis ended, and his body slumped under Fig's feet, fully dead.

"Oh, wait, Ragh's dead," Fig realized aloud. "Could someone revive him?"

"Could you revivify him?" Gorgug redirected to Kristen. The redhead nodded. "Do we want to?" Gorgug asked the group.

"No, but we should do it anyway," Machaira responded. "He doesn't deserve to die." Adaine smiled at her.

"He's a student," Adaine reminded them. "He's a piece of shit, but I don't want to kill him."

"Maybe we…" Fig began.

"I think that we…" Adaine trailed away.

"I don't know," Kristen admitted.

"We revive Ragh and ensure Daybreak can't be brought back," Machaira voted. "If the Harvestmen are in fact community leaders, Daybreak might just walk."

"If we bring him back to life, my thought is I have this Whisper of Terrors thing where I can basically make him super paranoid for like an hour." Fig added.

"Can you guys kill Coach Daybreak?" Riz repeated. "Anybody over there, just kill him."

"He's dead, right?" Gorgug asked.

"You wanna kill him?" Fabian repeated as if he hadn't just slit the man's throat. Riz rolled his eyes, walked closer, and shot Daybreak through the top of his skull. Brains exploded over the ground.

"He's a demon who wanted to cause the apocalypse," he reminded them. Machaira shrugged and nodded. Personally she thought it was a waste of a bullet when a sword would have done the trick, but she wasn't fussed about finishing the fanatical cultist. "We can save the kid, but – "

"Yes, but he still gave me detention, alright," Fabian told Riz. Both rogues stared at Fabian, trying to understand his point. The others all laughed tiredly. Riz shot Daybreak twice more, reducing his head to a formless mush. The half-elf nodded, satisfied. Adaine crinkled her face in disgust. Machaira flicked the back of the diviner's knee with her tail. Adaine started and lightly swatted her arm, smiling again.

Fig stared at the chest, eyes growing huge. She reached out and jabbed it, yelping as she hurt her hand against hard wood and metal. Adaine, eyes still glowing with a detect magic spell, explained that the chest was a one-use magical item that they were able to open with a scroll or other single expenditure magical item. The chest was inscribed with powerful conjuration runes relating to teleportation and portal to other planes, correspondence magic in essence.

"We gotta make a decision about Ragh," Riz swung the conversation back around. "Because Revivify only works up to a minute after death." That left them with twenty seconds. "I think we should save him. He's a student."

"Save him," Machaira voted again.

"Yeah, save him," Adaine urged. "He's a kid." Fig and Gorgug began tying him up with spare amp cords from Fig's backpack. Kristen cast revivify. As she did so, the others surrounded Ragh. Gorgug put him in a headlock, sliding fully underneath Ragh so that both half-orcs faced belly up. Ragh woke up cough and sputtering, breath coming out in harsh raps.

"You lost, man," Riz told him.

"Guess what, fucker," Adaine told him, face stone cold and voice calm, assertive. "You're our bitch now." It was not fair how much that turned Machaira on.

"I got you now," Gorgug told him happily. Fig played her Whisper of Terrors.

"The Harvestmen sold you out," she informed Ragh, demeanor serious as the mistress of lies did what she did best.

"… what…?" Ragh breathed.

"Yeah, Coach Daybreak, he sold you out," Fig elaborated. "He wanted us to kill you."

"Coach Daybreak would never sell me out," Ragh muttered. "He's number one. Coach Daybreak is number one."

"He said – "

"Then why did he give Fabian his whistle?" Riz interrupted Fig, jabbing his thumb at Fabian. The fighter showed off his prize and laughed.

"He said you had no heart," Fig told him.

"It's not true," Ragh gurgled on his spit and blood. "I'm owlbear through and through. Hoot growl, go owlbear."

"He had me take your letterman jacket away," Fig responded. Even though Ragh was wearing his jacket, the half-orc shivered in revulsion.

"Can someone go get the owlbear head?" Gorgug asked. Riz began to laugh in tired hysterics.

"We're not even sure if he was under some spell," the goblin gasped. "And we're just bullying this recently dead boy."

"He's been bullying us the whole time," Adaine yelled back, far more comfortable with beating up on Ragh than Machaira expected, but then the tabaxi loved seeing her friend's savage side.

"He's been really fucking with me, okay?" Gorgug yelled from beneath him. "He's been really fucking with me."

"Yeah, I'm thinking we leave Ragh with a parting gift to remember us by," Machaira said, holding her palm up and unsheathing her claws. Adaine, Fig, Gorgug, Riz, and Fabian snickered in a mix of dark approval and the mental exhaustion that always followed a battle. Kristen stared on with huge eyes, lips curled into a thin line.

"He gave me the nickname 'The Ball' and threw me in the trash," Riz reminded them. "But he's been, he was dead, okay?"

"I have to tell you – I have to tell you," Fig stammered, staring Ragh in the eyes. "For your own good, you have to transfer to Mumple School." Black wisps of magic floated about Ragh's face as Whisper of Terrors took effect. Riz's laugh became so high-pitched it blinked out of hearing.

"Yeah, you're damning yourself if you don't," Adaine told Ragh, eyes alight with vengeful glee. Machaira grinned, her mood as much improved by the promise of revenge as it was by the high elf's vicious elation.

"No," Ragh protested weakly. "don't send me to Mumple, don't send me to Mumple."

"You're ruined here," Fig promised him. "You have to go to Mumple and try and start over."

"No way," he breathed. "No way, owlbear forever." He sniffed. "Oh, I feel – "

"You know, everybody here is calling you Shit Pants," Adaine stepped in. Riz tittered, and Machaira gave Adaine the biggest smile she could without exposing her teeth. Gods, she loved this.

"Why?" Ragh wondered. "I didn't, why?"

"You shit in Coach's pants," Adaine told him. Fig repeated the statement. Riz ran over, retrieved Coach Daybreak's pants, and gingerly held them up for Ragh to see.

"I'm wearing my pants," Ragh argued, tired and confused. "I'm wearing – "

"You shit in his pants," Gorgug cut him off. "We switched the pants." Machaira, Fig, and Adaine were falling over each other laughing. The girls staggered about as if drunk, faces red as they tried to hold each other up, failed, and broke away. On some level Machaira knew they were enjoying this too much, but Gorgug's lie was too damn funny.

"Dude, we hooked you up, man," Riz told him.

"Fucking switched the pants, dude," Gorgug insisted, tightening his choke hold on Ragh. The other half-orc thrashed wildly in his grasp, but he was still too weak to do more than fail his arms around. Fig's head was bent back toward the sky. Adaine slumped against the tabaxi and grabbed the rogue's shoulder for support, breathing so fast that she couldn't form a proper giggle. Machaira finally broke and loosed an echoing, raspy roar of laughter that rumbled across the field. Adaine and Fig cackled harder. Fabian and Kristen finally cracked smiles, beginning to snicker with them. It was over: they'd taken down Daybreak, and now Ragh was going to get what he deserved. The emotional lightness that coursed through them was too heady for them not to laugh. Riz was the only one who managed to keep his cool, continuing to harass their prisoner.

"Here's the deal, during the game, you passed out, and you shit yourself. But look, we're owlbears to the core, too." Riz tapped his fist to his heart.

"Hoot growl, hoot growl," Fabian announced as if politely applauding an opera.

"Hoot growl, baby," Adaine said more convincingly, removing her hand from Machaira's shoulder and swallowing the last of her giggles.

"Hoot growl, hoot growl," they all chanted together.

"So we switched you out of your sweatpants," Riz began, pointing at the bully.

"Out of a favor for you," Fig interrupted, also pointing. "But if you cross us, we will tell everyone that you shit your pants."

"Little baby shit pants," Adaine taunted. Machaira did not think confident Adaine could rule any more than she already did, but the rogue had been very wrong. As one, the whole group roared with laughter. Ragh cried, thoroughly defeated and humiliated "You're going to Mumple, bro." Adaine crowed.

"Do whatever you want," Ragh sobbed weakly. "I'll do whatever you want. You can't tell people that I shit my pants. You can't tell people that I shit my pants."

"For the rest of our tenure at this school," Fig began, towering over the prone child. "You will defend us, with your body, to anyone who tries to say anything bad about us, smear our names, even so much as cheat off of us on a test – you will destroy them."

"Yeah," Adaine stepped in. "You think that we're really cool and… and…." Adaine stared, wide eyes mad with power that she didn't know what to do with. "You're going to vote for Fabian for Prom King." She pointed at the fighter.

"What, what, oh, uh, yes," Fabian stuttered.

"You want to be his quee – "

"No," Adaine cut Machaira's teasing off quickly. "No, no, just Fabian." Machaira giggled at her friend's red face and flicked her across the back with her tail. Adaine grabbed at her tail and laughed along, mock glaring at the tabaxi, who shoulder bumped Adaine and ducked her head at the elf in apology.

"Fabian and Fig for Prom King and Queen," Kristen announced loudly.

"No, no –yeah, Fabian and Fig, yeah, sure, I'll take it," Fig changed her mind halfway through, giggling.

"Also, what happened here?" Gorgug asked from underneath Ragh. At this point they all doubled over, howling at their own immaturity and poor attention span. Maybe they should have led with that one. But fuck it, Ragh was their bitch, Daybreak was dead, confident Adaine was back, and Machaira wasn't eviscerated any more.

If they wanted to be silly, who on earth would stop them?


	15. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 1: The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I'm ending this on a cliffhanger. I'm hoping to pump out the next chapter before Christmas. Thoughts and comments are appreciated as always. After this will come a rash of fully original content, so don't expect to see much of cannon events for a while.

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 1: The End**

"I swear to god," Ragh wept. "I swear to god, whatever you guys need, I'll do whatever you want." Gorgug let go and shimmied his way out from under Ragh. The half-orc stood and sniffled, roughly wiping his nose with either forearm. For a moment, they stood and watched him try to control the snot threatening to stream out of his nose.

"First things first," Fig said, pausing as Ragh's sniffing threatening to drown her out. "I need you to – I need you to…" She looked over at Adaine, face creased as if Fig wanted the diviner to remind her what she was about to say.

"Say it," Adaine urged. Machaira looked at her questioningly. What were they talking about?"

"Kneel before Gorgug and tell him he's a big strong man." Fig ordered the older student. Machaira glanced at Adaine. The wizard was grinning, glee shining in her eyes.

"What?" Kristen whispered.

"What is happening?" Fabian asked.

"Seems unnecessary," Riz muttered. Machaira shared their misgivings. As much as she wanted to see Ragh put in his place and, more importantly, give Gorgug a much-deserved ego boost, the social castration made her uncomfortable. Machaira wondered what Adaine and Fig would want to force her to do when they found out about the tabaxi's past. Ragh collapsed to one knee, eyes fixed on Gorgug's shin.

"You're a fucking big strong man, dude," Ragh gasped out between barely contained sobs. Fig's face was positively radiant. "You're a big strong man. You took me out, dude. Fucking took me out, dude. Fuck." Gorgug winced.

"Does that feel good?" Fig asked, putting a hand on Gorgug's arm. "I can call him off."

"It doesn't feel good, honestly," Gorgug admitted.

"Never mind," Fig told Ragh. "Sorry, I thought that would be therapeutic."

"Coulda just asked him to apologize," Riz suggested.

"I appreciate that though," Gorgug murmured.

"Since it feels like we're done here could you quit that for us?" Fabian requested of Fig.

"Apologize to Machaira." Adaine interjected quickly. Fig, Ragh, Fabian and Machaira looked at the elf. "Apologize for attacking her. And for breaking her tail." Ragh snuffled, loudly sucking mucus back up his nostrils as he shuffled to face the tabaxi, still on his knees.

"I'm sorry," he sniveled. "I'm sorry I jumped you. Fucking beat the shit out of me. Little rogue girl, fucking ripped me. I didn't even know I broke your cat tail. Fucking ripped me." Machaira shifted and glanced over at Adaine. The elf stared at Machaira, eyes already dimming from hope to dismay at the rogue's clear unease.

"Thank you, Ragh," Machaira said quickly, ears swiveling down. "And, thank you, Adaine, but I'm not very comfortable with this either. I really appreciate you, though," she added quickly, reaching out and touching her friend's shoulder. "I, that was a, a sweet gesture, thanks." Her ears fully flattened, Machaira whisked her tail against the ground. Adaine smiled timidly, flushed with embarrassment.

"Can we stop this now?" Fabian asked.

"Alright," Fig relented. Ragh stood. Machaira moved to stand closer to Adaine, tail swishing out to briefly wrap around her calf before whipping away. The elf's smile flashed a bit brighter before she looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. Machaira coughed into her hand to hide her own awkwardness and refocused on Ragh.

"What happened?" Riz asked.

"We have a lot of questions for him, right?" Kristen ignored Riz in favor of polling the others. Fig took out a flask and started passing it around.

"No, that has Friends spell cast on it," Adaine reminded Fig with a giggle.

"No, no, no, it's a new one," the tiefling promised.

"Oh, you cleaned it out?" Adaine asked.

"I got it from the hospital," the bard told them, unscrewing the top and taking a swig. The powerful smell of dwarven vodka reached Machaira's nose. Gorgug took a sip, smacked his lips, shuddered, and passed it to Adaine. Adaine tried some and coughed, shivering as the fierce liquid took hold. The high elf blinked, smiled, and straightened. It seemed that vodka agreed with her because Adaine took a second swallow. The wizard went to offer Machaira the flask, but her hand froze halfway.

"Do you want some?" She asked. "I know that you said you don't drink anymore, but this is kind of a big night for us." The tabaxi met Adaine's hopeful, nervous gaze as she proffered the stolen flask and smiled, chuckling a bit. Gods, that was a tempting offer. She reached out and wrapped her hand around Adaine's over the flask, giving her a squeeze before she took the liquor.

"Mmmm, I definitely want to," Machaira sighed, nearly moaning. "But I'm a bit of a lightweight, and, well, ah – "

"Affectionate?" Fig asked, smirking.

"Very," Machaira replied with feeling, ducking her head and passing the drink to an uncomfortable Fabian.

"I'm sure we can handle it," Fig assumed. "Right, Adaine?" Fig flexed her eyebrows suggestively. The other girl turned beet red and gaped. Machaira was about to laugh when noticed Adaine's gaze flickering between Machaira's scars and her eyes. _Ugly_. The word circled through her mind like a dog pack pacing around a treed panther. Machaira managed not to flinch and faced Ragh, suddenly wishing she had taken a shot of vodka to warm her up.

"Ragh, have a drink with us," Riz invited when the alcohol made it to him. Fabian laughed.

"You guys are fucking freshmen," Ragh exclaimed. "What the fuck?"

"Yeah, we're cool freshmen," Adaine retorted. "We've been telling you." Adaine took the flask and downed another mouthful to prove her point.

"I guess so," Ragh admitted. "You fucking just killed Coach Daybreak." The half-orc's voice was numb.

"Yeah but he was trying to kill us," Adaine reminded him, handing the flask back to Riz. Machaira smirked. Confident Adaine ruled.

"Speaking of which – "

"What was he trying to do?" Riz interrupted Fig. "He had this ball. He wanted to – do you really want the apocalypse, Ragh?"

"What?"

"I know you like the coach, but he was trying to destroy the world." Riz reiterated.

"No way, dude," Ragh brushed off the comment. "What are you talking about?"

"He was trying to throw us – " Gorgug began.

"What do you think about that freaking dark portal?" Riz asked, interrupting Gorgug.

"What I think was happening, dude?" Ragh repeated the question, frowning like he rarely had his opinion considered. "Dude, coach was like, 'Ragh, we're going, dude.' And I was like, 'yes!' And then I fucking got in the van, and then he fucking… We went to this big… it was like a house with no beds and so many chairs and, like, benches and stuff."

"Was it in a bank?" Fig asked.

"I think it's a church," Fabian corrected, turning to Ragh. "You're talking about a church?" Ragh peered at him, frowning blankly. "You've never been to a church before?"

"Fuck, Ragh," Riz said, grinning.

"Do you know what a church is?" Fabian asked.

"It's a church," Adaine confirmed.

"Dude, fuck off," Ragh yelled. "Dude, fuck off my back!"

"Okay, okay, alright," Riz relented.

"Fuck off his back," Fig teased Fabian.

"Okay, fine, I'll fuck off his back," Fabian acquiesced. Adaine giggled.

"You went to this house with no beds then just benches," Riz spoke over them.

"Bench house," Kristen supplied.

"This bench house," Riz agreed, gesturing to Ragh. "What happened at the bench house?"

"So, the bench house," Ragh recalled. "He went, and he, like, took a scroll. And he did a thing where the stone got, like, fucking sad or whatever." Fabian and Adaine both grinned.

"And you were able to pull it out by hand?" Kristen interrupted, miming the action.

"Fucking yes," Ragh exclaimed, copying the motion of pulling towards himself. "He said, 'Ragh, flip out,' and I flipped out. I fucking got it out of the wall, dude."

"Was Porter there?" Fig asked.

"Huh?"

"Was Porter there?" The tiefling repeated. "The teacher, the barbarian teacher."

"You are obsessed with this teacher, and he has nothing to do with anything." Adaine informed Fig, smiling with amusement and exasperation.

"I'll catch him," The bard promised. "I'll catch him yet." Adaine giggled.

"Look, Ragh, I have a question, okay," Kristen stepped in. "To start from the beginning, remember that day when, I think either you shoved into me and threw my bible or someone else did but you were around. Do you remember that?"

"First day of school," Gorgug supplied.

"Yeah, the first day of school," Kristen remembered.

"First day of school," Ragh muttered. "Oh, I fucking took The Ball, and I fucking dunked The Ball."

"You did," Riz confirmed.

"It was very cool," Kristen agreed. Riz laughed. "Look, but about the bible."

"You also dunked a bible," Riz cut in. "Do you remember the second half of the day?"

"Yeah!" Kristen and Ragh said simultaneously.

"Yeah, I fucking chucked your book into the fucking kitchen, dude," Ragh reminded her.

"Yeah, my book of Helio, you did, that was great," Kristen recapped quickly. "Did you do anything to the book first, or did you just take the book out of my hands and throw what you took?"

"Fucking smack and grab," Ragh hooted, miming the action. "Three points!"

"I hate you more each moment," Kristen calmly alerted him.

"Okay, but what – " Riz began.

"I was, but I didn't, I regret doing that." Ragh sputtered over Riz.

"Huh?" Kristen mused. Fabian and Adaine exchanged skeptical looks.

"Did someone tell you to do that?" Riz asked.

"No, no one told me to do it," Ragh said with feeling. "I regret it because coach fucking chewed my ass out. He was like, 'What were you doing? Why did you do that' And I was like, 'She bore false witness, Coach! I was trying to make you…'" Ragh choked, balling his fists.

"Oh, so Coach was really mad that you did that?" Kristen checked.

"He was so pissed," Ragh confirmed, eyes wide. "And he was like, 'You have no idea of the forces you're meddling with.' And I was like, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love…'" Ragh choked up a second time, staring at the ground.

"You love the coach, Ragh?" Riz asked, grinning.

"Fuck you, dude," Ragh cried, clocking Riz in the face. The goblin managed to duck and avoid the worst of the punch but still staggered.

"You kinda earned that one," Machaira said mildly, drawing her saber.

"I will tell everyone that you shit your pants," Fig threatened. Gorgug got up behind Ragh and started trying to force him down.

"Get off me, dude," Ragh shouted, arms flailing as he tried to stop Gorgug from holding them. "Get off me, dude. You guys talking about my coach." Fig walked up to the wrestling half-orcs without fear.

"What did I tell you?" She whispered. Ragh met her stony gaze and faltered, arms falling limply to his sides. Gorgug took that moment to secure his headlock.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Sorry, it's just people, I, I'm sorry, I, I, fuck – "

"Ragh, I'm sorry," Riz apologized, playing the bigger man in an ironic twist that was not lost on Machaira.

"It's just when people say that I have feelings, it's, like, fuck you, I never do!" Ragh snuffled, maintaining his staring contest with the ground. Machaira sheathed her saber. Adaine frowned, spiteful glee dying into sympathy.

"Ragh, here's – "

"You should just cry," Fig interrupted Adaine.

"Here's an idea I think that you should take," Adaine swept on.

"Cry, let yourself cry right now," Fig spoke over the elf again.

"Cry," Gorgug insisted.

"Let yourself cry," Fig repeated.

"Cry." Gorgug more ordered than suggested.

"Don't bully him," Riz told the half-orc.

"Cry, do it," Gorgug demanded.

"Hey," Adaine reached out and grabbed his arm when Gorgug went to choke Ragh.

"Crying feels really good," Fig said more calmly. Ragh screamed. Spheres of water formed in his eyes. Ragh squinched his face and pushed the tears back in.

"This is bullying," Riz restated.

"He hit you," Gorgug countered. Kristen activated her Thaumaturgy, producing distant, choral music. Fig created a minor illusion of a puppy cleaning a kitten. Machaira smirked and chuckled, falling sideway to lean against Adaine before straightening. Ragh quivered in place, staring at the illusion.

"Oh fuck," he whispered. "Oh fuck. They're natural enemies, but they're just helping each other." Fig laughed. Ragh more screamed than cried, face turning brick red.

"Is he barking?" Kristen asked. Adaine smirked again. Machaira's whiskers twitched. What on earth was she watching?

"Is this what you wanted?" Fabian asked Fig. Huge droplets with weird, backed up gunk from his tear ducts sludged down his face. Adaine and Gorgug gagged. Riz and Fig laughed.

"What's happening?" Ragh asked. "You fucking hit me, dude; I'm bleeding. Ahhhhhrrrrr, I'm bleeding out of my eyes."

"Yeah, it's not blood, it's just tears. It was water." Kristen told him.

"It's not blood, Ragh," Riz backed Kristen.

"It feels good to cry," Fig protested.

"I'm a big man. I'm a big man." Ragh muttered under his breath.

"Men cry," Kristen told him.

"Like if you didn't jerk off for a while you would need to sometimes," Fig explained.

"That's how you explain crying?" Machaira asked. "Jerking off?" Fig snickered. Adaine tried to hide a smirk.

"I fucking jerk off," Ragh assured them.

"Your eyes are jerking off right now," Kristen summarized for him.

"Is that true?" Ragh asked hopefully.

"Yeah, you're cumming, good for you," Kristen said without enthusiasm.

"Oh yeah, dude, fuck, I'm so good at sex I fucking cum out of my eyes when I feel this way," Ragh half-sobbed half-bragged.

"Are we helping or hurting him?" Kristen asked.

"Both," Machaira answered.

"What are you guys doing here?" Riz questioned.

"This is not what we wanted." Fabian announced, equally confused.

"I don't know, he hit you," Gorgug circled back. Fig doubled over in silent laughter.

"This is dark," Adaine declared.

"Adaine, what did you want to say?" Riz held his hand out toward the wizard.

"I…" The high elf paused, trying to remember her earlier suggestion. "Think you need to go and work on your emotions, and, like, maybe you can just go take a druid class or something. Like, plant some trees or some shit." She spread her hands, lips curling into a hybrid of nervous frown and amused smirk. She made that expression a lot, and it was always cute.

"Fuck," Ragh sighed. "Plant trees, more like fuck pussy."

"You're not cool, okay?" Gorgug yelled. Adaine's face devolved into pity. Ragh started freaking out again.

"Ragh, what else did you and coach do?" Riz asked, distracting the barbarian. "And don't just talk about sports. What did you guys do that was like the pulling the doorway out of the, uh, house with no beds? AKA, a church, for future reference." Ragh thought for a second.

"Uh, oh, there was some shit, like, he told me, like, if Zayn, you know that fucking weird kid?" They hummed affirmations. "If Zayn ever, like, asked for help, or I was, like, supposed to keep an eye on him if he ever, like, went to a teacher or looked like he was getting friendly with people, I was supposed to fucking kick his ass. Like, keep him alone, like – "

"Did you ever go to his apartment?" Riz interrupted.

"Zayn?" Ragh frowned.

"Yeah."

"No dude, that guy fucking sucks," Ragh claimed. "He's lame." Riz, Adaine, and Machaira exchanged glances. Rogues and wizards valued insight more than any other class. Ragh had almost no ability to deceive. Silently, they reached the same conclusion: this guy was dumb muscle. He had no idea what he was involved with.

"Hey, do you know where Coach lived?" Adaine inquired. "Have you ever been to Coach's house?"

"Dude, all the time, dude." Ragh got pumped again. "Coach would, like, get me over there, and we'd, like, just drink a fucking bunch of punch, and we'd talk about sports and stuff."

"Yeah, bring us," Fig suggested. "Let's go."

"Yeah, let's go," Adaine agreed.

"I want punch, let's go," Kristen added.

"No one to stop us," Machaira pointed out. Fabian groaned.

"Wait, okay, we can go," Gorgug decided. "I just had one more question: was there ever anyone besides Coach, like, telling you to do stuff?" Ragh started thinking.

"Specifically dressed like a scarecrow," Fabian offered.

"Or a Porter," Fig added under her breath.

"Okay, look, it's not Porter," Kristen mumbled.

"It's definitely not Porter," Adaine promised.

"Porter actually seems like a decent teacher," Machaira voiced. "The only reason we ever suspected him is that he wasn't surprised to see a bunch of dead people on campus, and, honestly, after the three weeks we've been here, I wouldn't be either."

"I mean, fair," Fabian offered with a shrug. Adaine laughed a bit and shoulder bumped Machaira. Fig grinned despite herself, and Riz groaned in reluctant agreement. Machaira whipped her tail against Adaine's back but didn't hold her.

"That's a weird thing to ask," Ragh mused.

"Why?" Gorgug pressed.

"Because, like, Coach was the fucking boss, and he didn't take shit from anybody… but the day after the shit happened, with that corn in the cafeteria… he looked more fucked up and scared than I've ever seen him. Like, he looked shook, and I was like, 'Coach, everything okay?' And he told me to hit the showers, and I was like, 'It's breakfast,' and I was like, 'I shouldn't do that – '"

"You just took a shower?" Gorgug asked.

"He would tell me to take a shower sometimes," Ragh tossed out conversationally. Adaine pursed her lips together in a concealed smile.

"How often were you taking showers?" Gorgug swept on.

"I take like four showers, five showers a day," Ragh guessed.

"It's one of his phrases," Fabian explained. "He told me to take a shower after tryouts, and I was like, 'Why would I take a shower?'"

"But you actually took the showers?" Gorgug inquired.

"Dude," Ragh began, yelling over his shoulder at the other barbarian. "When Coach says fucking jump, I say, 'Please!'"

"That's definitely the saying," Kristen agreed.

"Is Coach, like, your dad?" Riz asked. "Or, like – "

"What did you say dude?" Ragh whispered, staring at Riz like the greatest gift on earth lay just within reach. "Did you know that? Did someone tell that to you? Did someone tell you that?"

"What?" Gorgug murmured.

"Is Coach your dad?" Kristen asked, eyes huge. Machaira almost wailed in frustration at their cleric. All the time she'd spent with Gorgug and she couldn't figure out what was going on?

"Did someone say that Coach is my dad?" Ragh looked to all of them before refocusing on Riz. "I always thought Coach was my dad, and, like, so if you heard anything – "

"I don't think Coach is your dad," Riz clarified. "I was wondering if he was like a father figure to you – "

"I know what it's like not to know," Gorgug interrupted Riz for a change. "Not to fully understand who your dad is and think that specifically the Coach was your dad." Adaine began to laugh, refined mask cracking. Machaira reached out and pawed at Gorgug's arm.

"Although," Fig began.

"Been there," Gorgug told Ragh.

"Yeah, I mean, he's been there," Riz snickered. Ragh swept his hands out to quiet everybody even though he was still freaking out. He twisted his head around to see up the side of Gorgug's face and meet the half-orc's eyes.

"Dude, you don't know who your dad is?" Ragh murmured.

"Not my real dad," Gorgug replied, shaking his head.

"Dude, I don't know, I don't know who my dad is either."

"Yeah, I mean, it's hard, right?" Gorgug muttered. Ragh kissed Gorgug on the cheek. "Oh. Okay." Adaine's grin was on the verge of fully breaking free. Fig stared with huge eyes. Kristen frowned like she had missed something. Riz started to laugh. Machaira chuffed and shook herself, amused. Odds were nothing would become of this, but Gorgug's reaction was going to be funny for a long time.

"Alright, that feels like a sign that we should depart," Fabian suggested. They all laughed.

"I kinda want to ride this out," Kristen disagreed. The laughter redoubled.

"Yeah, I'm here for it," Fig seconded.

"I just…" Ragh stuttered, realizing what he'd done.

"I have so many questions, and some of them are being answered right now," Kristen giggled. The rest of them laughed along, happy that her weird new horniness wasn't being turned on them for a change.

"You just, you get me, dude," Ragh muttered.

"Okay." Gorgug repeated quietly.

"I'm sorry," Ragh said more firmly. "Fuck, dude, I was out of line, dude. And honestly, Owlbears would be fucking lucky to have you dude because you fucking ran the field, dude, and I fucked up. I'm sorry, dude." Gorgug nodded.

"I have one more question," Fig piped up. "We weren't at school today: how's Penelope doing?"

"Penelope?" Ragh's head swung back and forth. "She's alright, I guess. She, like, she's so fucking weird because, fuck, like, Dayne is so cool. And he's constantly hanging out with fucking, like, Penelope, you know what I mean? It's, like, okay, she can't play bloodrush, so what's going on?"

"Do you ever – " Kristen began,

"Cool, great intel," Fig ran over the cleric quickly. "Great intel, thanks."

"Do you ever think about – have you ever had any dreams about him?" Kristen spoke louder to be heard over Fig.

"Dayne?"

"Yeah."

"Tons, dude," Ragh confirmed.

"Yeah, like what happens?" Kristen asked, looking at Ragh the same way she had looked at Fig's rat.

"I had a dream where he was, like, a unitaur, you know, like a unicorn/centaur, right, where he would have the legs of a horse and then it was his body. And centaurs don't wear shirts."

"Yeah of course," Kristen agreed, not even blinking as she watched Ragh.

"And then a phallic horn?" Fig guessed, putting her hand over her head. Fabian's face was a mask of exhaustion.

"And then he had a horn," Ragh agreed. "And he was like, 'Ragh, I know where our dad is, and you need to get on my back.'" Adaine and Machaira exchanged uncomfortable sideways glances. While implicit sexual fantasies did not make the rogue awkward, _Ragh's_ animal fetish dream about another senior was not something she needed to be privy to. Gorgug just frowned at Ragh like he didn't fully understand what was going on.

"Do you think Dayne is your brother?" Fig asked.

"He said it, and I got super sad, but I didn't understand why," Ragh elaborated. Riz smiled the way he always did when their party detoured off the deep end. "And then I got on his back, and we just rode for, like, forever, just forever."

"How were you holding on to, like, so that you wouldn't fall off?" Kristen inquired. Machaira pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Uh, I was just normal, like, horse, but I had my hands wrapped around his, like, front part, you know, like, human torso. And I had to, like, be kinda back – scooched back because I was, I was naked, so I didn't have, so, like, my cock was getting hit by the horse body." Adaine snorted, face rippling between awkwardness and humor. She slipped behind Machaira and subtly began the motions of a message spell. After a moment, Ragh stiffened, cocking his ear to some sound the rest of them couldn't hear, and started swinging his fists out around him. Gorgug, still holding him from behind, was out of the line of fire, but everyone else took a healthy step back.

"Whoa," Kristen exclaimed.

"Hey, hey, guy, maybe I should – "

"Shut up, dude!" Ragh shouted over Gorgug, face turning red. "Who said it?"

"Huh?" Fig asked.

"I feel like maybe I shouldn't just be holding him like this," Gorgug admitted from his headlock.

"I disagree," Machaira countered. "I think that just came in handy."

"I mean, it's fine," Kristen waved aside.

"This feels like it's going rather fine, if I do say so." Fabian sassed.

"Ragh, I think you just need to take some time, and you just need to think about some stuff," Riz stepped in. "I think you're gonna be a lot happier of a person if you just kind of…" He made a vague hand gesture that could have meant anything.

"Truly, go see Jawbone tomorrow," Fabian urged.

"Great idea," Machaira agreed.

"Go see Jawbone!" Riz parroted.

"Yeah, see Jawbone," Adaine backed with feeling, grinning hugely at the idea. "Jawbone is, seriously dude – "

"You should talk about this dream to Jawbone," Riz interrupted.

"Yeah," Fig seconded.

"The fucking werewolf dude?" Ragh asked, confused. They all made noises of affirmation.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool," Gorgug claimed.

"Yeah, he's pretty rad, right?" Riz added.

"I guess…" Ragh muttered.

"He does a lot of drugs," Fabian tempted. Ragh's eyebrows flew up.

"Word?"

"Ah, yes," Fabian assured the barbarian.

"Dude, Jawbone sounds sick," Ragh relented. "I'll fucking talk to Jawbone." Everyone murmured approval once more.

"I think you're gonna be a much happier person," Riz repeated. Ragh started blustering.

"Alright, whatever, fucking losers. Thank you so much for talking to me." He rushed the last part out in a vulnerable undertone. Gorgug let go of him.

"You're not a bad guy, Ragh," Riz told him.

"Yeah, you're a good guy," Kristen agreed.

"Ragh, we're glad we brought you back to life," Fig said. Ragh immediately burst into tears. The berserker kept his face motionless, but rivers of water rolled down his face without intervals.

"Oh," Kristen noticed.

"No one's ever said that to me before," Ragh whispered. Privately, Machaira wondered how many people had killed him and brought him back to life period.

"We're really proud of you, Ragh," Riz told him. "You showed good hustle out there, man." Ragh hiccupped a bit.

"If anyone talks shit about you guys around me, I'm gonna fucking kill them, alright?" Ragh breathed. Various murmurs of caution or assent drifted from the party. "I'm gonna eat their asshole, dude." Ragh promised more loudly.

"No, you don't have to," Riz protested.

"Great," Fig happily countered.

"Keep an eye out for us," Gorgug requested.

"Just one more time, if somebody tries to, like, dunk me, just stop it, you know?" Riz backtracked.

"Anyone tries to fuck with you, I'm gonna fucking get the fuck in there," Ragh managed around his hiccups.

"And, like, maybe just, like, listen to some chilling music?" Adaine suggested.

"What?"

"I think we got you," Gorgug said, sparing Ragh the necessity of answering.

"Wait, will you tell us where Coach's house is?" Fig requested.

"Ragh, hit the showers," Riz laughed.

"Before you hit the showers – " Fig called, but Ragh was already sprinting for the showers, arms pumping as he tried to pour on speed. Everyone started laughing.

"Did we find out where Coach's house was?" Fig asked

"I don't think so," Riz admitted

"Don't you want to snoop through Coach's house?" Fig inquired

"I definitely do," Adaine declared adamantly.

"Ragh, where does Coach live?" Riz hollered after the half-orc.

"He lives down the street, man," Ragh's distant voice filtered over. "He lives over by the old Church of Sol!"

"Cool, thanks man," Riz snickered.

"Thank you," Fig and Adaine yelled after him. They all left for Coach Daybreak's house, which was disturbingly close to the woods where Machaira lived. On their way over, Adaine dropped to the back of the group to talk to Machaira.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked. "You were pretty quiet back there. I mean, you're normally pretty quiet but, like, you were really quiet. Is everything okay?" Machaira offered Adaine a smile, knowing that she couldn't quite hide her worry. She'd reached her goal with surprising alacrity; Daybreak was dead, leaving no excuse to hide her past from her friends. But there was a fearful, half-baked hope inside her that whispered her friends might not need to know. If they never asked, she'd never have to tell. A silly thought, but the tabaxi clung to it.

"I'm okay," she lied. "I just have a lot on my mind. This whole adventure feels like it's coming to a close. It's kind of huge."

"Yeah, but isn't that a good thing?" Adaine asked. "No more almost dying, no more looking over our shoulders or wondering who around us is a secret enemy, finding those missing girls – won't it be a relief to get it behind us, maybe just, you know, hang out like normal people for a while?"

"Yeah, it's a good thing," Machaira agreed. "It's just a lot. I'll be glad to put it behind me, but I'm really glad I got involved."

"Why?"

"I got to know you because of it," Machaira answered simply, looking ahead to the others a few paces further down the sidewalk. Every one of them was important to her. "You and the rest of our party. This is the first real group of friends I've had. Because of this crazy fucked up conspiracy, I got to meet some of the most incredible people who have ever touched my life." She turned to fully meet Adaine's gaze as she said the last part, the only member of her party who had really put time and effort into the scout. The high elf blinked, a little daunted and flustered but plenty happy. Machaira smiled, and Adaine smiled back, tucking a strand of hair around her ear.

"I'm glad I met you, too," Adaine admitted quietly. "I won't miss getting shot at and shit, but I'm really happy you're my friend." Adaine's left hand clenched and unclenched at her side. Machaira moved her right hand closer, fingers brushing Adaine's. The wizard immediately seized her hand, face blushing scarlet around her grin. Machaira chuffed, maneuvering to interlock their fingers and give Adaine a tight squeeze. The other girl almost jumped trying to shoulder bump her. Despite Machaira's smaller stature, her stride merely paused as the tabaxi absorbed the impact, nudging Adaine back more carefully. She met the high elf's blue eyes and poured warmth into her gaze, wanting Adaine to know just how much she valued her. Her friends weren't demanding any secrets yet, and Machaira was determined to make confident Adaine regular Adaine while she still had the time.

"So tell me, what did you have in mind now that we're 'normal people'?" Machaira teased lightly. Adaine's blush crept down her cheeks over her jaw.

"I don't know," she complained. "Just, hanging out together without wondering which teacher is trying to kill us or whatever." Machaira barked out a laugh.

"Sounds like a plan," she chirruped, butting Adaine's shoulder with her head. The high elf giggled but separated as they reached Daybreak's apartment. Machaira was glad they had their moment before they reached the apartment because Daybreak's residency was overflowing with insane cultist/dungeon-esc paraphernalia, including spikes of every shape and size, self-flagellating tools, torture equipment, and dozens upon dozens of fiendish objects. Machaira snarled in disgust and swatted a totem of Yeenoghu onto the floor. The paper trail was, if anything, more incredible. Coach Daybreak seemed to be the brains of the Harvestmen. Riz found a book with the names of everyone involved in the Harvestmen, including the names of several police officers he knew, though nobody who outranked his mom. Adaine sorted through piles of research about Hell Mouths and perditional contradoxy, both inside of people and via portals. The difficult part wasn't finding incriminating evidence; it was trying to take stock of it all.

"Motherfucker, where is Porter?" Fig demanded, riffling through papers with reckless abandon.

"No else thought that."

"It was just that one time he wasn't surprised."

"He's just – he's not even a human."

"Jesus."

"He just wasn't rattled," Riz laughed.

"He's made of rock," Adaine added.

"He fucks," Fig protested.

"He likes you, too, right?" Kristen asked.

"I'll suss out where he's – " Fig began.

"He really liked you and wanted to take you under his wing," Kristen swept on.

"Yeah, isn't he your favorite teacher?" Adaine added.

"He seemed nice," Riz admitted.

"He is nice," Machaira assured them. "He subbed in on our fighter's class one time, and he's actually a really good teacher.

"He is," Fabian agreed.

"Your dad is a demon," Riz reminded Fig.

"Devil," Machaira corrected. There was a big difference they were all ignoring. Fig eventually knuckled under.

"So, I guess we'll call my mom?" Riz proposed.

"The Ball, it sounds about right," Fabian agreed.

"I guess we'll call my mom," Riz muttered again, taking out his crystal.

"Wait, we're gonna – oh, we're gonna call your mom," Fig cut herself off. "I think we should go through the list of people, and we should go knocking on their doors, and I can intimidate them."

"That's insane. They're adults." Adaine calmly informed her.

"Adults in an extremist cult who ordered the murder of students," Machaira added.

"Yeah, there's a ton of them," Riz backed the girls.

"Yeah, and I'm a powerful young lady," Fig asserted.

"A powerful young lady who'd be arrested," Machaira added.

"I think we call The Ball's mother," Fabian voted.

"Wait," Adaine sopped Riz, eyes glowing with a detect magic spell. "I found something." The wizard moved to the back of the apartment and showed them an arcane lock on a secret compartment. Upon breaking it, she unearthed a juicy stash of personal information: Daybreak's whereabouts; the funding and blackmailing of Zayn Darkshadow; correspondences with Zayn about contacting Johnny Spells; and financial documents that revealed Daybreak to be almost entirely broke despite a salary of 400K gold pieces, frequently deposited into a trust fund at KVX Bank. Riz and Gorgug came to the same conclusion that someone on the school board also had to be in on this to justify paying the coach of a high school such an exorbitant salary.

"Trust fund doesn't have a name attached to it," Adaine announced. "It's some weird legalese thing I can't make heads or tails of."

"Let's break into the bank," Fig suggested. "Clearly this thing that he was depositing in is, probably, like, the trust fund is probably financing the Harvestmen."

"It could be one of their accounts, yeah," Kristen agreed.

"Could be that he has a secret kid," Adaine proposed. "Or something to do with Zayn Darkshadow."

"A half-orc secret kid?" Machaira joked.

"Well, why do you have a trust fund?" Adaine demanded, putting her hands palms up. "Like, why does one have a trust fund? It's, like, a thing for your kids, right?" Machaira shrugged. She'd never used a bank.

"Is it his trust fund or a trust fund that he has access to?" Gorgug spoke over the four other responses. "Like it could be accumulative – "

"But it's a trust fund," Adaine stressed.

"There's other uses for a trust fund besides kids," Fabian said. "He could be leaving money for anyone." After a few more minutes of bickering, during which Machaira found a statue of Baphomet and slowly pushed it to the ground where it belonged, the party agreed to call Sklonda Gukgak. The detective rolled up in front of the apartment a few minutes later and looked over at Riz, flabbergasted.

"Kiddo, what the hell's going on?" Despite how serious the goblin was, Machaira could see through the mask of a professional to the concern beneath. Riz smiled a bit, but kept glancing nervously at the ground as he answered.

"So, there were some dark goings on at the school, but we got to the bottom of it. Uh, it seems like, have you heard of the Harvestmen?" Sklonda frowned.

"Yeah, they're a cult."

"Right, I think Coach Daybreak was like the brains of the operation." Sklonda looked around at the stacks of papers and material they had assembled in front of her, some on the ground and some held out for her to inspect.

"Where is Coach Daybreak right now?" She asked.

"He's super dead."

"He killed himself." Riz and Fig replied simultaneously. Sklonda looked from one to the other, frowning suspiciously.

"You don't have to – we killed him," Riz clarified for his mom. "He tried to kill us." Machaira was a little shocked at the level of trust between the two goblines. But then, her party had repeatedly shown her that she knew nothing about healthy parental relationships.

"He shot himself from the back of the head," Gorgug tried to maintain Fig's lie.

"Oh, we should get to lie," Fig protested, holding up her index finger. "You lie to my dad, but I can't lie to your mom?" Adaine narrowed her eyes over a carefully concealed frown.

"My mom's cool," Riz countered.

"Alright, alright, alright, alright" Sklonda waved her hands back and forth at them. "All you_ children_ have to come downtown. You have to come downtown." Kristen and Fabian started to protest. Machaira forced her hackles to stay flat.

"No, but there are bad cops," Riz rushed. "There are dirty cops." One of the cops in the squad car whipped around to look over at them as Riz spoke. "There's evidence. People who – nobody who outranks you." Riz handed the list to his mother, who grabbed it out of his hands and looked over it.

"I trust a demon over a cop," Fig whispered.

"Seriously, you of all people should know that your father is a devil," Machaira rebuked. "Call him a demon – tell him there's no difference. He will be so hurt."

"You tried to take off his hand," Fig protested.

"I also helped him eat again," the scout reminded her.

"Yeah, thanks again, that was super cool," Fig said, losing all hostility.

"Sweetie," Sklonda cut them off, staring at Riz. "This checks out. Go wait in the car. We're gonna take care of this." She smiled at her son.

"Yes ma'am," Riz agreed, nerves fading to meek relief now that his mother wasn't angry. The other rogue began to walk to the car. "See, my mom rules."

"All of us?" Kristen asked. Sklonda didn't answer, gaze fixed on the pages her son had given her. Right then, Machaira knew that this woman was on the warpath. She wasn't sure who exactly would be the detective's prey, but the tabaxi was happy not to be in her line of fire at the moment.

"You're not my dad," Gorgug told her.

"What's that?"

"You're not my dad." He repeated simply. Sklonda stared at him for a moment. Her eyes wandered to the ground, as if trying to remember something. She started to speak but shut her mouth after the first breath. "You're clearly not my dad."

"Mom, I'm so sorry," Riz laughed. "I don't…"

"I don't – " Sklonda started.

"You've got a lot on your plate," Riz interrupted. "We're gonna go wait in the car."

"I know we were all wondering," Gorgug assured them.

"The fact that he acknowledged that you are NOT his dad is a big improvement," Machaira explained to a very confused Sklonda. "Honestly, this is progress." Adaine was consumed by a giggle fit.

"We do have something to talk about." Fig announced. They stared her, but Fig didn't elaborate right away.

"I just want you to know, um, before you take me downtown, I actually have diplomatic immunity," Adaine told Sklonda, coming out of her giggles.

"Oh. The six of you need to come downtown with me." Sklonda corrected, gesturing to the people on either side of Adaine.

"I'll go," the wizard moderated. "But – "

"We won't place you under arrest," Sklonda promised, waving a hand at Adaine.

"No, I'll just come with my friends," Adaine rushed, gesturing to the full party. She stepped up against Machaira's side as she said this, fingertips reaching out to brush the base of her tail. While part of Machaira wanted to make a joke about feeling her ass, she instead gave Adaine what she wanted and wrapped the elf in her tail without comment.

"I have diplomatic immunity, too," Fig declared.

"No you don't," Sklonda shot her down.

"I do," Fig argued. "I bet I do."

"What country are you from?" Sklonda asked. _Shit._ Machaira stiffened. The police would want information on citizenship, parental status, and a half-dozen other things Machaira hadn't needed to attend Aguefort. Now her friends would find out about her past after Machaira was locked up for wandering into Solace without a visa. Adaine felt her reaction and looked over at her in alarm. "Oop, there it is." Sklonda said to Fig.

"What's wrong?" Adaine asked as they were loaded into a cruiser. The cops were careful not to touch Adaine but gave Machaira an extra shove to keep moving. "Hey!" The elf protested, but the rogue stayed quiet. Machaira unwound her tail from Adaine as they sat down but squeezed her hand. She met the high elf's confused gaze steadily. Machaira slowly butted her head against Adaine and pulled away, back straight, eyes forward. She took the elf's hand when offered and laid her tail over their laps for Adaine to fiddle with, but she knew what was coming.

They were given some benches in the police station to sit at for a while, outside but next to a holding cell. Someone brought them fast food. Machaira picked at it for a bit before giving it to Riz. Fabian followed suit, much to the goblin's glee. A few minutes later they were questioned and had their statements taken. A few minutes after that someone brought them bottled water, which Machaira sucked down in silence. The shadows of the cell to her right felt like an omen. Adaine studied her in concern but didn't say anything, perhaps waiting until they were alone like she normally did. After a little over an hour Sklonda came back and gave them back their weapons and gear, including their crystals.

"Now, policy dictates that you call your parents or guardians from one of our crystals," she warned them, passing out a police-issued crystal. "So everyone make your phone call, and you can leave when your legal guardian comes to sign off for you." Machaira stared at her lap as everyone made their calls, only half absorbing the white noise of parents exclaiming over their children's situation. Finally, she was the only one left. Sklonda held out the crystal to her. "Alright, kiddo, just call your parents, and that's that."

"I don't know their number." Machaira admitted, looking up to meet the detective's surprised eyes.

"Can't you look it up on your crystal?"

"Their number isn't in my crystal. I haven't seen them in seven years." Sklonda tightened her mouth. Machaira hated the trace of pity that made it through her mask.

"Then call whoever has legal guardianship over you," the goblin amended.

"No one has legal guardianship over me." Machaira kept her voice calm, but every instinct was screaming at her to run. Her scars itched, twinging with phantoms pains. Her ears felt hot as her friends stared at her.

"Kiddo, I'm not sure I understand," Sklonda said.

"Aguefort doesn't require a guardian's permission to enroll," Machaira told her. "It also doesn't require background checks, proof of citizenship, or money, provided you put enough scholarships together."

"Machaira, what are you saying?" Riz asked.

"What's going on?" Kristen demanded.

"The fuck is wrong with this school?" Fabian wondered.

"Machaira, talk to me," Adaine pleaded. "What's going on?" Machaira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned to meet Adaine's gaze squarely. She didn't want to do this. But she had to.

"I was born in the tropical nation Tybal Terra," she said. "I haven't seen my parents since I was eight. I have no legal guardian. I take care of myself." She looked over at an astounded Sklonda, who was almost eye level with her when the tabaxi was sitting. "There is no one for me to call to come get me. I am an illegal immigrant in the nation of Solace." Kristen, Fabian, and Fig all started yelling. Riz stared at her, stunned, but also a little validated, like he'd finally pieced something together. Gorgug just frowned, like he didn't fully understand what was happening. Adaine's eyes were wide, a thousand emotions running through them. Machaira faced Sklonda resolutely.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Adaine asked eventually. The others had all been plying questions and making demands, but this was the voice Machaira had been waiting for. Even without seeing her, the hurt in the elf's voice cut Machaira like a knife.

"Because I'm not brave like you," she reminded the wizard, closing her eyes. "Because I'm afraid to see the look in your eyes right now." Somehow, the tabaxi kept her voice calm. She touched the bracelet on her wrist, offering this trial to Bast.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Kristen repeated.

"Seriously," Fabian added.

"Okay, I think you owe us an explanation," Riz agreed.

"Kiddo, enough," Sklonda turned on them, voice hard.

"No, they're right," the scout conceded. "You've trusted me with your lives, and I haven't been honest with you."

"So, there's just, no one?" Adaine asked. "What, how, why, what even is this home you've been going to every night?"

"I have a camp in the woods." Machaira responded simply. She didn't need to see Adaine to know that the wizard was taken aback. "I'll tell you everything, soon. I promise. Just not here, in the police station. Which reminds me," Machaira opening her eyes and meeting Sklonda's gaze, resigned. "What happens now?"

"I…" Sklonda took a deep breath and held up a hand. "Give me a second to figure this out. Just, stay, sit here for the moment, okay?" Machaira nodded and rested her cheeks on her hands, muzzle pointed at the floor. There was a scuff mark on the tiles. She wondered how long she'd be able to stare at it.

"Mom, what – "

"Sweetie," Sklonda cut Riz off before he could begin. "Just, let me handle this, okay?" The detective walked away. The rest of her party stammered questions over each other, but Adaine stayed quiet. Machaira noticed that her tail was on the floor. The high elf wasn't in a hurry to pick it up, and Machaira certainly wasn't going to offer it. The tabaxi let them yell at her. She deserved it. One by one, her party members left with their parents. Gorgug's adopted gnomes cried furiously as they led their son away, clinging to his arms and legs. Gilear was concerned in an elven-aloofness, yogurt-stained way, but at least it was different yogurt. Bill Seacaster swaggered through the precinct, laughing up a storm at his son's revenge kill. Kristen and her parents talked over each other so much that no one could get a question through, but tensions were high all around. Finally, Adaine's mother and father strode briskly through the station, pale elven skin dusted red. Adaine stood stiffly as they approached.

"I never thought that I would have a daughter that would go to prison," the tall male elf, presumably Adaine's father, began. "This is disgraceful, Adaine, even for you."

"I wasn't arrested," Adaine corrected her father. "I helped to catch a dangerous extremist who was trying to bring about the apocalypse, and I came here to give testimony."

"You have diplomatic immunity, or did you forget?" Adaine's mother whispered, glancing back and forth as if looking for the first person who would come and shame them for Adaine's behavior.

"Mr. and Mrs. Abernant," Sklonda said behind them in a perfect professional cop voice. "Your daughter has performed the city of Elmville, and indeed the world at large, a very valiant service. She was not placed under arrest but came here of her own accord, as I mentioned earlier."

"So you chose to humiliate us?" Adaine's father spoke at Adaine and did not look at Sklonda. "Did you even stop to think about how it looks to have an Abernant come to this place at all?" Adaine tried to protest, but her voice had started to fail, words falling into a mousey rasp.

"Enough." Her mother cut off these hoarse whispers. Neither parent yelled or cursed. They kept their voices hushed, bodies stiff. They didn't fully express the emotion that their scent carried but restricted themselves to bitter disappointment. Their behavior was as much an act for Adaine as it was for observers.

"We will discuss this further when we get home," Adaine's father said. Adaine flinched, and something broke in Machaira. Machaira felt like a glass vial had cracked and released a poison within her, just like the puzzle box from the trap-springing workshop. Years of built up hatred burned within her, and the tabaxi rose from her seat.

"You stupid, blind reptiles," she growled, every word rippling through the room like a low roll of thunder. Adaine's father turned to her in askance.

"I beg your – "

"You have no idea what kind of person your daughter is," Machaira snarled over him, voice deepening until it shook dust from the ceiling. The rogue was vaguely aware of cops stopping in their tracks. The click of safeties sounded but didn't register. "Adaine saved the fucking world, and all you can think about is how you're embarrassed to claim her as your kid? Do you even hear yourself? Just in the last month Adaine Abernant has stood her ground against the powers of Hell, dangerous gangs, magic-immune golems, and violent extremists. Adaine is strong and kind and funny and smarter than anyone else I've ever met. She's already top of every class, and she did all of it without you. At what point are you going to take your noses out of your bleached assholes and look at _your own daughter_ for the incredible person she is?" Adaine's father started to speak, but Machaira rolled over him. The elf had nothing to say that she wanted to hear.

"Adaine is everything you could have wanted, but you're so determined to see her as an inconvenience that you can't understand that. She took on a dangerous mission when others either could not or would not, and she came here tonight to see it through to the end. If you think that's an embarrassment, then you don't deserve to call her your daughter." The elves stared at her in stunned fury for a moment, and some feverish part of Machaira's brain wanted them to cast a spell so that she could get her teeth in their skulls.

"I'm sorry, and you are?" Adaine's father inquired in a tight, imperious tone, staring at her down his aquiline nose as so many others had.

"She's my friend," Adaine spoke up. Her voice was as tight as her father's but angry instead of condescending. "This is my friend, Machaira." For a moment, the tabaxi in question maintained eye contact with the older elf, positive her ears were deceiving her. When she finally turned to look, Adaine was smiling fiercely at her. "And we're going to see this mission through to the end." As she said it, a bit of uncertainty entered the diviner's gaze, like she needed Machaira to answer part of that for her.

"Yes," Machaira promised. "We will." Adaine smiled, but the joy was marred by doubt and fear, like she didn't know what to do with the scout any more. Her parents furiously whispered at her to follow them, and Adaine reluctantly did so. She kept her head down and did not look back at the tabaxi. Machaira sighed and sat down, staring up at Sklonda tiredly, ears, whiskers, and tail drooping now that she had nothing to fight. "So, what's the verdict?" Sklonda, who had been studying the tabaxi with something close to respect up until that point, sighed heavily.

"Mom, you can't put her in jail," Riz protested. "She just – "

"I know, sweetheart," the detective interrupted, holding a hand up to her son. "Look, Machaira, you're not protected under the law by the charter of Solace because you lack citizenship. Legally, I should arrest you for any number of reasons." The scout nodded dully. "However, we have a habit at the precinct of looking the other way where Aguefort students are involved. You go to that school to learn how to become vigilante outlaws in a world that, unfortunately, needs such people to protect it. So I'm going to let you go this time." Machaira stared at the officer. She blinked twice. Nope, that was definitely a real cop and not her imagination. "You're free to go." Sklonda reiterated.

"Thank you," Machaira said slowly, taking a deep breath. "And thank you, Riz." She turned to her fellow rogue, who had stood up on his chair when taking Machaira's defense.

"You're my friend, too," Riz replied, and in that moment Machaira was certain the goblin wasn't just saying that to maintain her usefulness. Sklonda must have sensed the uncharacteristic sentiment as well because the older goblin smiled warmly at her son. Machaira's lips quirked up. "But I still want answers. We need to be able to trust you."

"You're right," Machaira admitted, cutting off Sklonda's response. "I owe you an explanation. All of you." Machaira stood and started to walk away, hands in her jacket pockets. "See you later, The Ball." As she left the station, Machaira realized that she now had to wait to explain everything to her friends while they knew enough to still be alarmed and angry. The sensation of being trapped stole over her. Machaira grabbed her bracelet, stumbling through Elmville and into the Far Haven Woods.

When she finally collapsed on a log next to her cold fire-pit, the forest was empty around her. She had done that, killing or scaring all life away from her camp. Machaira sharpened her claws, more to work out excess distress ripping at the log than for true grooming purposes. After a cold bath in the stream, she crouched at the bottom of the blanket pile where she could almost pretend the weight of the fabric over her held some protective value. She kept glancing at her crystal, but Adaine didn't call. Some part of Machaira hoped that meant that her friend had been able to deal with her family without incident, but she knew Adaine had to be hurting. Machaira wanted to call, to let her know that she wasn't alone, but the elf would want to know why Machaira had kept such a big secret from her. And that wasn't a conversation they could have over crystal. So Machaira sat alone in her tent and waited for her party to tell her where they would meet next. Machaira rested her notched jaw on her hands, preparing herself to lose her friends for good.

She received a text from Aguefort the next morning explaining that the school would be closed as they complied with a police investigation following Coach Daybreak's death. This suited Machaira just fine since she had intended to skip anyway. She spent the day as she had the night: falling in and out of a restless doze, crouched with her limbs under her body, crystal in front of her nose. The blink dog walked through her camp, snuffling at the fire pit for scraps. Machaira lifted a lip in silent complaint but couldn't find the energy to actually do anything.

At around four in the afternoon, Kristen sent out a text in their group chat saying that Sklonda had raided the Applebees' home based on the evidence they turned in. For a minute, Machaira stared at the screen as questions and condolences rolled in. She sighed. Machaira slunk out of the cover of the blankets and shook herself. The tabaxi dressed and left her camp, heading over to Elm Valley. When she arrived at the Appleebees' residence, Sklonda and a team of police were wrapping up. A dwarven cop was taking note of some angry comments from Kristen's parents. The three Applebees sons were clustered behind their parents, eyes wide with fear and incomprehension. Kristen stood a little ways away next to Fig.

"Machaira?" The cleric exclaimed as the tabaxi walked over. "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing Fig is, I suppose," the scout answered. Her voice sounded rough even to her ears. She reached out and pulled Kristen into a firm hug. Kristen was forced to lean forward to meet her, Machaira's greater strength unbalancing the redhead. But she embraced the rogue fiercely all the same.

"Thanks," Kristen muttered.

"Of course," Machaira replied. She caught Fig's eye over the human's shoulder. The bard smiled warmly back, her expression a little too knowing. Fig probably shared some of Machaira's resentment toward the cleric, but they knew what was important. "So, what's going on?" The tabaxi asked, pushing Kristen back by the forearms.

"My parents were cleared of wrongdoing," Kristen heaved, wiping at her face. "They weren't doing anything illegal, but they were involved enough to know what was going on." The cops started packing up. Sklonda walked over and told them that they were all welcome to come over to dinner tomorrow night. She hoped to have more to tell them by then. The teens thanked her and watched as the police pulled away, lights flashing but sirens off, on their way to the next home. The Applebees watched them for a second before walking inside. Kristen looked to the other girls for direction. Fig nodded encouragingly. The cleric squared her shoulders and headed in, leaving the door open behind her.

The rogue and bard exchanged glances before following. Fig and Machaira stayed close to the doorway, watching as Kristen stood across from her parents against the back wall of the living room. Her brothers were retreating down the hall behind the cleric, dragging their feet and stealing looks at their elders as they went. When the door clicked shut out of view, Kristen's mother crossed her arms and sighed.

"Well, I ah, guess your new friends, uh, know which side their bread's buttered on, huh Kristen?" She spared a glare for the tiefling and tabaxi that had entered her home but maintained focus on Kristen. Kristen stared back at her mother, gaze wide as she absorbed her presence. Looking around the house, Helioic icons dominated every surface from wall art to blankets. The only face almost as prominent was Kristen's. Machaira wondered if Kristen was seeing her parents for the first time without the filter of their shared religion, or vice versa.

"I don't know what the fuck that means," the cleric told her. "Mom, what were you doing with the Harvestmen?"

"It's hard for humans here, alright, in Solace," Mrs. Applebees began in a tired, bitter voice.

"Oh, victim," Kristen summarized, narrowing her eyes. "You are always pretending to be a victim, mom. I don't wanna talk to you. I – "

"Hey, hey, don't talk to your mother that way, young lady." Her father chastised. Kristen rolled her eyes.

"Okay, fine. I just have a question." Kristen pressed her hands together as if praying. "Why did Coach Daybreak want to make me a Hell Mouth?" Kristen's parents pursed their lips and shook their heads before she could finish, arms crossed in preemptive denial. "He was gonna sacrifice me since I was somehow already promised to god, which is something I didn't ask for." The cleric rolled her eyes again.

"Nope, nope, he did not, he did not," Kristen's father rejected the idea immediately.

"Yes he did," Kristen insisted.

"He did not."

"He absolutely did."

"Prove it, prove it," her parents demanded, faces set in anger. Machaira and Fig exchanged dumbfounded looks. Ragh hadn't been this thick.

"I can, there's a lot of proof," Kristen told them.

"I don't… know about that," her mother argued.

"Yeah, that could fill a book," Kristen sneered. "Mom, you're dumb." Kristen's father thumped his leg with a hand.

"Well you know what, because you seem to have a whole new family, Kristen, maybe you can go stay with them, huh?" He bellowed.

"You know what, family's a loose word, dad," Kristen shot back. "A lot of different people can become your family. You know what, all I want are answers. And I was – I'm your kid. I feel like I should be able to get answers from you." Her parents clenched their jaws and looked between the floor and each other. Their expressions were tight with disapproval and anger but not remorse. Kristen cast light on her _On the Subject of World Religions_. "THIS is where I've been finding some answers," the cleric announced, eyes stretched wide for effect.

"You get that out of our house right now!" They screeched, pointing at Kristen's book.

"What is even in it, you idiots?" Kristen ridiculed them. Her parents leapt over the sofa and scrambled to the far side of the room. Each of them grabbed a polearm off a weapon rack and brandished it at Kristen, warding her back.

"What the hell is in that book?" Her father whispered furiously.

"You live a fear-based life, goodbye," Kristen whispered back dramatically. She turned, ran from her house, and slammed the door, leaving Machaira and Fig inside her parents. For an awkward moment, the scout wondered if she'd have to fight these crazed paladins to get out before the door reopened and Kristen walked back in. "I need to grab my things." She declared. Kristen walked toward the hall, and her mother swiped at her.

"You just tried to walk out, so go," she yelled. "Get out of our house right this instant."

"I will once I pack my suitcase," Kristen snapped back, trying to take another step forward. She held her book at them, and although the older Applebees recoiled from its light, they did not let her pass.

"You're not our daughter," her father snapped. "You just said as much. So go on, get out." Kristen stumbled away, expression blank with distress. Fig ran up and put an arm around Kristen's shoulders, which did nothing to ease her parents' fear. The cleric barely noticed the tiefling. Kristen clearly meant what she had said but hadn't thought it through. She looked… lost, unsure of which way to turn. Machaira growled throatily, rattling the shutters and shaking dust from the ceiling.

"You're right, she's not your daughter." Everyone in the room turned to look at Machaira as she spoke. The tabaxi swept past Kristen and Fig, grabbing a picture of little child Kristen off of a shrine as she stalked toward the fanatics. Kristen's parents directed their polearms at her, but any fear of injury was swallowed in a protective rage. Kristen was her least favorite member of the group. The redhead casually insulted her on a daily basis and regularly reminded her of how inferior the rogue was to the rest of them without even trying. But she had the biggest heart in Elmville, and when confronted with the brutality of their cult, her parents had chosen ignorance and hate over their own daughter. For the short time they were still party members, Machaira would not let them hurt Kristen.

"She's not your daughter because you don't see her that way. I doubt if you ever did. Tell me, when Pastor Amelia or whoever announced that your firstborn was chosen by Helio, did you ever think of her as anything else? How long as she been 'Kristen the Chosen' or 'Kristen the Faithful' and not Kristen the person? Are you so spiteful toward her because you have nothing else to stand for, and if she can deny Helio, then what the hell have you been doing your whole life?"

Halfway through that last sentence, Mrs. Applebees slashed her across the chest. Machaira welcomed the hot sting of pain and the warm flow of blood over her chest. It confirmed her idea that this was a fight: a fight for Kristen. Fighting she could handle. Machaira met their wild stares unflinchingly and held up the crystal-framed picture of a tiny Kristen, gap-toothed grin and spread arms reaching for the photographer.

"You can yell and fight and pray all you want, but you drove your daughter out of your home when you forgot who she was. By her own decision or yours, Kristen is leaving because you couldn't see the girl for the blessing." Machaira shoved the picture at Mrs. Applebees, who grabbed it clumsily. She turned to Kristen. "Take us to your room. We're helping you pack." Kristen nodded, stupefied, and edged around her parents. The paladins glared at them, but Machaira's speech seemed to have taken some of the fight out of them.

This felt eerily similar to her blowup with the Abernant family earlier, but Machaira could feel the key differences. She did not care for Kristen the way she did Adaine, nor did she think the cleric would have continual problems with her family. As hard a path as Kristen had to tread, it would only get easier. And Machaira was not nearly as worried about how the cleric would fare after she left than she was for the wizard. Nor was she nearly as afraid of Kristen as she was of Adaine.

Fig offered Kristen a place with her and her stepfather Gilear at their place in Strongtower Luxury Apartments, which Kristen eagerly accepted. All three girls backed a bag of clothes, toiletries, and mementos for Kristen. As an afterthought, Machaira grabbed a large stuffed corn off of the cleric's bed and added it to her bag. Kristen's brothers waved as she left but did not say goodbye. Her parents slammed the door shut the moment they stepped outside. By the time they made it to Strongtower, Kristen was joking and planning late night vending machines raids with Riz and Fig, but Machaira knew the reality of it all would set in eventually. She said her goodbyes and started down the stairs, placing a hand on the railing more for the sensation of cold metal against her palm than for balance.

"Hey," Fig called out, jogging down the stairs toward her. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Machaira replied, stopping and turning around to look up at the tiefling.

"To your camp in the woods?" Fig clarified. Machaira flinched, ears flicking, but didn't break eye contact. "Why don't you stay? Kristen needs us."

"She needs you," the tabaxi corrected. "And Riz is over there stealing from the vending machine for her now."

"She's going to need all of us," Fig shot back. "Come one, stay with us. It'll be fun." Machaira deadpanned. "You can't run from your friends forever." Fig rebuked, dropping all pretenses.

"No, just until tomorrow," Machaira told her dully. "So I only have to do this once." Fig stared at her. Machaira couldn't stand the pity in her eyes. She hated the hurt there even more.

"Adaine is really upset," Fig said quietly. "She isn't the only one." Fig's gaze hurt to look at. It hurt even worse to know that Adaine already didn't trust her enough to speak to her directly, even though the rogue had expected as much. She wondered if Adaine had called Fig last night when Machaira hadn't stepped up. She hoped so.

"I know. And I'm sorry." Machaira replied. "I'll explain everything tomorrow."

"Promise?" The other girl used the word more as a challenge than a question.

"I promise," Machaira told her, shoulders dropping as she turned and walked away. When she was almost home, her crystal buzzed with a text.

6:49 p.m. Gorgug Thistlespring: U OK?

6:50 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: Yeah.

6:51 p.m. Gorgug Thistlespring: U sure?

6:54 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: Guess I'll find out tomorrow.

This was followed by a frowny face and an emoji Machaira's crystal didn't support, which in turn was followed by the word 'heart'. Machaira smiled. It was impossible not to love the sweet half-orc. She was going to miss him.

6:57 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: Thanks. See you tomorrow.

Machaira took a breath, feeling just a little bit fortified. The rogue hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, but she wasn't the least bit hungry. So the tabaxi once more bathed and huddled up inside her tent, limbs tucked under her body in a crouch that let her doze without falling fully asleep. The blink dog hung around her camp again that night. It had detected the change in her scent from dominant predator to defeated girl, but it didn't work up the courage to attack just yet. Machaira knew she should have run it off, established herself in some way, but she didn't have the energy to care.

The next day rolled around. Machaira didn't know if they had school or not. It had stopped mattering to her. Riz sent her a text reminding her that they were having dinner at his apartment at seven. Kristen and Fig, who were always late to everything, lived down the hall, so she had no reason to assume that they wouldn't be there. Machaira lay in her nest until about three in the afternoon. She crawled out from her shelter and walked down to the stream again. She needed to do something normal, something mundane, before doing this, just to cushion how huge everything felt. Her scars felt more prominent than they usually did, rough against her hands.

Machaira felt like she was on death row during the walk to Strongtower. Machaira had no idea what she was going to say to them. Planning had never been her strong suite. But all too soon she was standing outside the door to Riz's apartment. She checked her crystal. 7:04 p.m. She took a deep breath. Her scars itched. The knob turned easily in her hand. Her friends were all gathered around a little wooden table in a kitchen area to the left side of the room. For a moment, she could pretend that nothing was wrong and just enjoy seeing them happy. Then they noticed her arrival. The banter and joking stopped. Smiles slipped into more serious expressions. Machaira forced herself to close the door behind her. She couldn't be tempted to run from this. The tabaxi took a few steps into the room and removed her hands from her jacket pockets. She took a deep breath.

"Hey," she greeted. No one said 'hi' in return. Her tail flicked on the floor between her legs. No turning back now.

"I think I owe you guys an explanation."


	16. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 2: Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Machaira's big reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I am two days late, and I am so sorry about that. I need a lot of feedback on this chapter. Seriously, I am agonizing over this one. The next few chapters will, as I have said many times, be downtime relationship development and fluff for the most part. Sisterly Showdown is a good while away.
> 
> Literally any thoughts you have while reading this are welcome and appreciated, including negative ones. I cannot judge this chapter objectively any longer as I have spent too much time editing it.
> 
> Hope you all have a happy new year!

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 2: Scars**

"Tabaxi don't have a unique language, but they do have a few unique words. My name is one of them. It comes from an old draconic word for _dagger_. When something, or someone, is _Machaira_, it means that thing is brutish, stupid, ugly, unskilled – something fit only to wield a common knife."

"Why would anyone want to be called that?" Kristen asked. The cleric's eyes were wide, but then so were everyone else's. Well, she had their attention at least. Machaira shifted, grabbing her right bicep. The familiar texture of her jacket was soothing.

"Nobody; that's the point," she explained. "Tabaxi are looked at as thieves, killers, and violent animals everywhere. Their culture is all about being charismatic and pretty, avoiding suspicion by being charming. They worship a demigod called the Cat Lord: an immortal trickster who promises his worshippers beautiful, clever children. Ugly children are a prank he plays on the parents, an embarrassment but not sinful. Deformed children, on the other hand, are considered a curse against the parents for being impious."

"Are you deformed?" Kristen guessed, leaning forward over the table. "Is it your teeth? I bet it's her teeth – "

"That is not an okay thing to say," Riz told her. "Kristen, you gotta – "

"Shh," Fig hushed both of them, noticing how Machaira flinched. She slapped Riz and Kristen on the arm and nodded at the tabaxi to continue. Machaira shivered. She couldn't meet their eyes for longer than a few seconds. Gods, this was hard.

"She's not wrong. My fangs – tabaxi born with fangs like mine are called 'primitives'. We're considered throwbacks to the days before the Cat Lord, when tabaxi were wild. Primitive tabaxi are despised because we always have our teeth out, so we constantly remind others about what we came from, that, at our core, we are hunters. Primitives are supposed to be dumber and more violent, deficient compared to a normal tabaxi. It's a rare deformity, but it's considered indecent and ominous for the cub. My parents took one look at me, and they gave me a name that let everyone know I was a mistake." Mental scars throbbed, threatening to rip.

"My parents had been popular in the community until I came along. They avoided being completely ostracized by keeping me at a distance. They didn't talk to or hold me when I was young. School was free to attend, but they made me walk by myself. I always did poorly in school. The other students would hiss at me if I came too close, and I, I never made any friends. I spent a lot of time roaming the streets to stay out of the house. But no one wanted me hanging around their stores or homes and other cubs would attack me. The adults let them do it, but if I fought back, they punished me. My head and shoulders were too broad to be pretty; I was too small to ever be tall or graceful; and I was a dumb, violent deformity. They didn't want me to grow up as a part of the community. But even though I knew it would get me in trouble, fighting back was the only thing that made sense to me."

"My parents didn't want me out late because they didn't want people to see me, but I stayed out anyway because I was afraid of them. In the end though, I came home every night. I didn't know what else to do. They let me sleep in their house and gave me clothes, but they didn't always feed me. I was usually too scared to ask. When I was six… I was drinking out of a puddle, and… I ate a frog. I was just so hungry. That was my first kill. I was crying as I was eating it because the frog hadn't done anything wrong but I had killed it anyway. I loved that frog for keeping me fed, but I had killed it. Other tabaxi saw this, and it confirmed to them that was a dirty beast, an animal." Fabian gagged. The rest of the party stared at her, revolted. Adaine had frozen, mouth twisted into a disgusted frown. Machaira did her best not to look at her.

"Didn't your parents help you at all?" Gorgug asked. Machaira curled her lips, revealing hooked teeth. Tremors ran through her spine.

"Not long after the frog incident, a group of cubs from the school cornered me on the playground. They had heard about what had happened from their parents. They kept hitting me, telling me that I should leave because I was primitive, ugly, and cursed. I couldn't run, couldn't get enough room to climb the fence. Even the girls were so much bigger than I was. I just lashed out at anyone who got close enough. One of them jumped on me and scratched me across the ear." Her right ear twitched at the memory, betraying her.

"I came home crying and covered in blood. Since so much of their culture centers around beauty, scars are taboo to tabaxi. They go to a special cleric to have blemishes removed. If they can't afford it, their neighbors help raise money for the spell or the cleric heals them anyway out of charity. Even criminals have their scars removed once they finish a prison sentence. But my parents gave me a headscarf to wear over the injury so no one had to look at it. The scarf was their way of telling the community that they wouldn't protect me, that they approved of what was happening." She choked, anything she might have said next disappearing at her friends' faces. Their pity was like a thick, viscous liquid settling in her lungs. She hated it, hated how weak she must look.

"When did you leave?" Riz asked, expression tempered by reluctant curiosity. Machaira shuddered. The rogue found herself looking away more and more, tail fully entwined around her leg. She didn't want to relive this. She didn't want to see their reactions. But that was why she had to.

"When, when I was eight, my milk teeth – my baby teeth – started falling out. I overheard my parents say that once my permanent canines grew in, they would get them filed down to fit inside my mouth. That would have removed half the length of my fangs. I would be crippled for life, unable to eat or fight properly. I was terrified. No one would forget what I was just because my fangs were cut short. So I ran away. I didn't know where I was going or what I would do. I just ran. I spent weeks scavenging carcasses and eating small animals in the jungle, wandering from hiding place to hiding place. I was convinced I would die out there, eaten by a monster or struck down by disease and thirst. Other humanoids thought I was a thief playing a part. Bandits attacked me twice. Then I found a temple to Bast, hidden in the depths of the forest."

"The priests of Bast offered me food and water. I didn't trust them at first, but I was so desperate I eventually broke down and accepted. They told me about the goddess and her creed of power through sacrifice. The clerics didn't care that I was small or ugly; they didn't care that I was a child. They treated me with respect. I asked to speak with Bast. They warned me that it would be painful, but I insisted. To speak with Bast, your consciousness gets transported to the abyssal plane where she fights her enemy, the demon Apophis. Apophis's mind corrupts everything around him, twisting and breaking it down to its most chaotic. Spending more than a few minutes in his presence drives you insane."

"But Bast is almost worse. The war goddess was holding Apophis down by the neck under her bare foot, a knife in each hand. She looked up at me from the bottom of the pit, and I could feel the power of her rage searing against my skin in the real world. She, she yelled at me, ridiculed me for coming to speak with her. She told me that I didn't need her to be strong, that my survival was something to be proud of. She told me that if I killed in her name, I would never fight alone. Bast would watch and praise my struggles. The goddess said that if the world turned its back on me, I had no reason to fear it. As Bast decapitated the serpent, she told me that others suffered as I had every day, and no deity could ever stop that." Machaira took a deep breath and felt heat flush through her veins. She straightened, unsheathing her claws as she turned toward her friends. Their stares still sent quivers of dread down her limbs, but Machaira would never be ashamed of the decision she made that night in the temple.

"Bast's final words to me were not a religious statement but a challenge to action. I entered the temple a frightened little girl; I emerged a predator. I taught myself to hunt bigger game. Deer and rabbits could sustain me, but I focused on hunting dangerous creatures. I sought wolves, bears, griffons, and, once I gained a few seasons experience, young dragons and wyverns. Humanoids were another breed of game, and, just like the beasts, I didn't target the weak. I killed murders, bandits, and criminals, but only sparingly. I avoided cities, for the most part."

"So you were a vigilante?" Gorgug summarized.

"Yeah," Machaira nodded.

"Why not just tell us that?" Fabian asked.

"What happened to your other ear?" Kristen followed up.

"And how did you end up at Aguefort?" Riz said. Machaira noticed Adaine was the only one who hadn't spoken yet. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing yet, especially since she wasn't bold enough to look at the high elf directly. Machaira took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the tabaxi stared at the table to avoid meeting their gazes.

"I had spent my life being bullied and pushed away. Bast showed me how to make a difference in the world, helping people too weak to fight for themselves. But people still treated me with disdain. I didn't care, for a while. Then, when I got a little older, I… I started getting noticed. People wanted me around. They, they wanted _me_. I knew it was bad on some level, but – "

"What are you talking about?" Kristen interrupted. Machaira closed her eyes again. She could feel herself trembling. It was getting hard to breath.

"I started having sex," she admitted. "With anyone who wanted it. I was a twelve-year-old girl traveling by herself in the worst parts of towns and… I was desperate for the attention. I knew that it was wrong, but I wanted to be wanted." Her voice broke. Machaira shuddered a bit harder. She couldn't make herself look at them. She kept her gaze fixed on her boots.

"Did you have sex with girls?" Kristen asked.

"Kristen, stop." Fabian demanded.

"What?" The cleric protested. "I want to know. Was it hot?" Machaira didn't open her eyes, but she could feel the question being directed at her. The tabaxi flinched. "Did they, like, pull your tail – "

"Kristen, enough!" Fabian commanded. The redhead stopped talking. Machaira twitched away, ears fully flat, whiskers pulled against her cheeks. She could smell their disgust already. The scout didn't know how they would react to the next part.

"It was a little more complicated," she murmured. "When tabaxi hit puberty, we develop an adult hunting complex. Parents usually teach their cubs to repress it, kind of bury their animal side, but mine didn't bother. I was completely blindsided by how powerful these new instincts were. When it hit, everything was… intense. I was drunk on the smell of blood. Killing had always been a means for survival, but after my heat cycle started it became a need, every bit as potent as sex and hunger. I didn't know what was going on with me. I didn't want to hurt people, but the feel of claws sinking into muscle and bone…" She shivered, talons flexing from their sheaths. She felt dirty divulging this.

"You're not like that anymore, are you?" Fabian asked, edging back. Fear soured the air. Machaira's heart dropped somewhere below her navel. Their fear was so much worse than their pity.

"I mean, I think we've spent enough time with Machaira to know she can control herself now," Gorgug reasoned.

"Yes," Machaira quickly stepped in, shooting the barbarian a grateful look.

"But when you first developed these instincts…?" Riz let the question hang. Kristen stared at her with huge eyes, full of fear and a little horny. Machaira's fetal hope faded, and she nodded, looking down at the floor again.

"It was intoxicating. And most of the people interested in sex with someone that young were racketeers and killers. So, I used myself as bait. After satisfying the girl, they satisfied the predator." You could have heard a pin drop in that room. "No one ever suspected a little tabaxi girl in tight clothes. I could get as close as I wanted to the most dangerous criminals in the outlands, and they thought themselves perfectly safe until I sank my teeth into their throats. I spent more and more time in towns and cities. I started drinking and doing drugs, going from the high of dragon spice to the high of sex to the high of the kill. I… I almost destroyed myself."

"But you stopped, right?" Fig asked. Machaira nodded, shuffling her feet. Her shoulders rolled inward as she tucked her fangs under her collar. She grabbed her biceps to try and stop the shaking. Her eyes itched.

"Bast came to me in a dream. She warned me that I was wasting my potential. Bast told me that if I didn't stop, I would regret it, and soon. I didn't want to believe her. The highs I chased prevented me from having to feel too much. Even if the partners I didn't kill were, were abusive, I wanted the attention. So, that night, when I met up with this ursine that I had been, uh, seeing, I asked him to scratch my ears. I wanted to prove Bast was wrong and just pretend that I, that I mattered to someone, have a quiet, sweet moment." She squeezed her eyes closed. The confession made her feel exposed, vulnerable. The scars in her mind began to tear, bleeding for her friends to see.

"He was… He wasn't paying attention. His claws tore half my ear off and cut the back of my neck. I screamed, and he hit me on the back of the head. So I screamed again, and he hit me again. His claws… I could see little shards of bone on the bed. When I wouldn't shut up, he reached for a halberd. Instinct took over. I jumped on his back, bit down on the back of his skull, and killed him. When I stood up and looked at him, I wasn't even looking at a person. He was just one more _thing_ that tried to hurt me, another monster I put down because I didn't know how to do anything else. I had become everything people said I would be when I was small." For once, no one had anything to say. Machaira trembled so badly she almost fell over. Her party was in shock, but that would fade soon. She could feel their reactions coming like a storm on the horizon. Her breathing had picked up, becoming faster and shallower.

"I had to take control of my life. I quit having sex for fun. I stopped killing criminals and started leaving them alive, mostly. I spent more time hunting monsters in the wild. Getting clean from the drugs took about six months. The withdrawal was, well, shit, but it gave me time to think. I, I realized that I needed direction. I just wasn't making a difference on my own. I needed someone to teach me how to make a bigger impact. I prayed to Bast for direction, and she sent one of her fallen servants to guide me to Aguefort. And, well, you know the rest."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Kristen asked. Machaira winced.

"Would you want to go talking about that?" Fig rebuked harshly. Machaira could feel her tail vibrating around her leg, fur bristling at the tiefling's tone.

"I, I thought, maybe, Aguefort could be a fresh start," she managed. Her voice was starting to rasp. "I didn't want you to pity me or, or fear me."

"Then why tell us now?" Riz inquired.

"Because you made me!" She snarled, feeling her control crack. Her party started, shying away from her. "You're my friends, the first real friends I've ever had. I didn't want you to know ANY of this, but I couldn't just lie to you! We fought together, depended on each other. You actually treated me like a person. And then you got suspicious and told me – I, I couldn't lie to you about – how do I tell my friends that I've killed dozens of people? That I'm just a stray that was too mean and ugly to get taken in? How could I ever have your respect if you knew I was a homeless whore? And how could you ever trust me if I couldn't be honest with you?" Machaira's voice fully broke. Her vision swam. She took a step back, stumbling a bit without her tail to help balance, head ducking down. "How could I ever admit that I'm more afraid of the six of you right now than I've ever been of anything else in my life?" The scars split, fresh wounds once more.

Adaine stood up. Machaira stumbled back another step. No. Adaine turned to face her. Machaira started panicking. She couldn't make sense of her body language or scent, couldn't determine her expression through repressed tears. Adaine started walking towards her, and the tabaxi backed away clumsily. No, no, no, no, no. Her back hit the wall. Her fur puffed underneath her clothes. The rogue instinctively tried to make herself smaller, less threatening. Machaira's ears were pressed flat, tail around her leg, fangs hidden under her collar, body curled in and down, one arm held across her chest. Why was Adaine still coming? She reached out blindly, fear making her stupid in her desperate search for the door handle. Why hadn't she left the door open? Adaine was almost to her. She couldn't get away, couldn't run. And there was nothing to attack. Machaira tucked her head down and pulled her other arm in over her skull, shaking so badly that she almost fell over. The rogue squeezed her blurry eyes tightly shut. She felt a rough touch pulling at her, and Machaira whined in blind terror. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, _NO_!

Adaine pulled her into a tight hug. Machaira yelped fearfully at the contact. The wizard squeezed the scout with all the strength in her body, head smushed against Machaira's. Machaira's arms were folded between them, a hard barrier crushed against their breasts. Adaine couldn't exert enough force to stop her from trembling. Machaira did not move otherwise, expecting a blow that never came. Her breathing was too loud for her own ears. Her body spasmed away from Adaine instinctively, but the high elf didn't let go.

"You didn't have to tell us," Adaine muttered into her hear fur. "Gods, we should have just fucking let it go. You didn't – I can't believe you've been holding onto that this whole time." Machaira didn't understand. She kept her position, eyes held shut, waiting for the attack. "Fuck, no wonder why, I, fuck…" Adaine stammered. For once, the other girl seemed to be at a loss for words. "We shouldn't have pushed you so hard." Machaira whined again, flinching. She didn't know what was happening. She shrank a little deeper toward herself, and Adaine adjusted her grip to hold the rogue more tightly. Machaira's panic grew. Why wouldn't Adaine let her run?

"I'm sorry," Machaira rasped, weakly trying to pull away.

"What are you sorry for?" Adaine demanded, voice thick with emotion Machaira was not cognizant enough to grasp. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I am so sorry for pressuring you." Riz's voice floated from somewhere behind Adaine. "I, god, you could have just told us to let it go."

"I told you it wasn't our business," Gorgug reminded them quietly. The confirmation that her party had been talking about her behind her back elicited another recoil from the tabaxi, and Adaine tried to constrict her more.

"No, but it's good that you told us," Fig spoke up, pitch changing tone as she directed her speech toward the party and Machaira alternately. "You can't keep that much shit bottled up."

"I don't want to be pitied," the tabaxi hissed, but her voice was a harsh, grating whisper.

"Machaira, you are the strongest person I know," Adaine declared firmly. Machaira whined and shook her head. She didn't want to be lied to. "It's true," the wizard snapped fiercely. "You survived so much shit all by yourself, and you didn't become a warlock or an extreme cultist. You went to school to become a better person."

"Yeah, you're a badass bitch, Machaira," Fig promised. Her voice had gotten closer.

"I feel a little sorry for you," Kristen said. A hand thumped against flesh. "Ow! What, don't the rest of you?"

"Of course," Adaine shot back. Machaira tried to shy away again. Adaine had to strain to keep the shaking girl in place. "You know what, I feel bad for you." The elf admitted roughly. "You didn't deserve any of that. From what you just said, you've been through hell. That's not okay. But I don't – you're not like some weak little damsel. You're a fighter, and you're our friend. Like, shit, I'm impressed that you're alive at all, but I don't like…" Adaine huffed, and Machaira shuddered harder, irrationally afraid of being the target of the elf's frustration.

"I'm going to feel bad that you've been suffering, alright?" Adaine burst. "But I don't think less of you for it."

"Christ, Machaira, we're not heartless," Fabian exclaimed. "You got dragged through hell. I mean, yeah, I feel sorry for you, but I've seen you fight."

"Yeah, and you kick ass," Fig said. Machaira felt herself pulled toward the left as another set of arms wrapped around her. Adaine's warm scent was cut with the familiar mix of smoke, booze, and brimstone she'd come to associate with Fig. Her eyes burned, pressure building as tears tried to force their way out. "Like, I don't blame you for keeping this a secret, but if anything, I respect you more for telling us."

"Yeah," Adaine agreed. "I would never be brave enough to talk about any of that." The wizard rubbed her back firmly. Machaira lost the battle against her tears as she slowly realized that her friends weren't rejecting her. They didn't think less of her for her past. The rogue felt light-headed as a weight slipped off of her like a lead vest. She completely fell apart at that point, voice crumpling into a thin, barely audible whimper. She buried her face in Adaine's chest, finally returning the elf's embrace as she cried furious, ugly tears. Machaira unsheathed her claws into Adaine's blazer, careful not to pierce her skin as she gripped tightly to her friend.

Somehow she ended up on the floor, curled against Adaine as the elf kneeled before her. Fig sat behind her, and both girls rubbed her back, softly rustling the scales of her jacket. Machaira subconsciously arched her spine into their caresses. Her shudders slowly eased until she stilled in her friends' arms, all but lying in Adaine's lap. She kept her eyes closed, head twisted to the left, pressing her muzzle and head into Adaine's sternum and tucking her fangs under the wizard's blazer. She could hear her friends murmuring around her, their voices beginning to blur together as she came down from her anxious high, emotional and mental exhaustion creeping in. Occasionally other hands patted her shoulder or back, but Adaine's touch was the only constant pressure. Machaira sniffed, cautiously nuzzling Adaine's chest, a slow weep of dwindling tears soaking the rough fabric of her uniform. The wizard petted her back with firm, slow hands, the only one of the party who wasn't speaking. When Machaira finally mustered the nerve to peek up, Adaine was smiling gently at her, expression soft with sympathy and affection. Machaira shivered and pressed deeper into the elf's embrace, closing her eyes again. The scents of her friends mingled in her nose, though Adaine's was a little stronger. Machaira fully relaxed, tail unwinding from her leg, ears and whiskers straightening. A purr caught in her throat, almost escaping as a sense of security stole over the tabaxi.

"Well, this was certainly an unexpected turn of events," an airy, male voice proclaimed. Machaira's eyes flew open. She looked around Adaine's arm to see Gilear standing at the kitchen counter.

"When did Gilear get here?" She hissed, voice rough from crying. Her ears flattened again, and her tail whipped about, slapping Fig in the stomach behind her.

"Oh, I've been standing in front of Gilear and Sklonda this whole time," Gorgug realized out loud. Machaira stiffened. Now that she was looking, she could see Sklonda Gukgak standing next to Gilear deeper in the kitchen. Both adults had been completely covered from her position at the doorway by the half-orc's wide frame. Fig led the first round of laughter, cackling in the high-energy way one tended to after a tense moment. Even Adaine snickered, though her expression remained sympathetic. Machaira groaned, hiding her face in the wizard's stomach. She could feel the heat of her blush and knew it had to be showing through all the way down her throat.

"Please kill me now," she requested through a mouthful of shirt. "Just take the dagger off my waist and stab me through the neck." Adaine laughed and petted her nicely but did not put Machaira out of her misery.

"Perhaps it is not my place," Gilear began. "But, as one who has also fallen on hard times, I must say that it is remarkable you have withstood so much. Truly, I do admit to feeling guilty for my self-loathing over my own situation by compare." Machaira groaned louder. She was more pathetic than Gilear the lunch lad. She could not possibly sink any lower. "I'm going to guess that was not the right thing to say."

"Probably not, Gilear," Fig giggled. "But I know you meant well."

"Yes, well, meaning well and doing well are quite different," Gilear murmured. The whole party chuckled at Gilear's expense. Adaine squeezed Machaira's shoulder. The tabaxi shifted to fit more of her body in Adaine's lap. The wizard giggled and ruffled her back through the jacket. Fig renewed her laughter and rubbed her spine. Gorgug clumsily patted her shoulder. Machaira's tail brushed over the limbs and backs of her friends, clinging to whoever stayed within range. Her friends chuckled at her obvious enjoyment, but the tabaxi couldn't bring herself to be embarassed.

"Machaira," Sklonda broke up the wonderful petting, walking over to the rogue. Fig and Gorgug backed up to make space for her, but Adaine pulled the scout closer to her chest, expression shifting from affection to caution. The goblin's mouth was set in a hard line, face tight with anger and some other emotion the rogue was too tired to name. Machaira found herself recoiling slightly, mane bristling and tail skittering over the floor. Sklonda stopped just out of reach, her head barely above the tabaxi's.

"I've been a cop a long time," Sklonda told her, taking a deep breath. "I've seen a lot of girls at your age in your position. Victims of neglect, abuse – " She cut herself as Machaira drew back a touch further, clawed fingers gripping the back of Adaine's shoulders. "I've seen a lot of girls go through similar traumas," she backtracked carefully. "A lot of them turn to sex, drugs, and abusive partners to cope with it. Very few bounce back from their past to lead a healthy life. And none on their own." The cop smiled, and Machaira could sense the conflicting emotions within her. But the rogue felt raw, too weary and afraid to properly identify the goblin's thoughts.

"You are the first child I have seen in your situation who, on her own, decided to enroll in school," Sklonda informed her gently. "More than fifteen years on the force, and I've never met anyone who had that response. I'm glad Riz has friends like you." Machaira's ears rose just a touch, fur beginning to flatten. Adaine rubbed her back in soothing circles. "I know – you said something about having a camp at the station. Clearly, you've been taking care of yourself for a long time. But if there's anything you need, just ask, okay?" Sklonda met her eyes, and Machaira could see that she meant it. The older woman held her position for a bit, waiting. Machaira moistened her lips. She glanced at Riz, and the other rogue nodded at her encouragingly.

"Can I…" Machaira gulped down a hiccup, licking her lips again. "Can I come here to do laundry sometimes?" She whispered. "And maybe take a shower if it's raining?"

"Of course," Sklonda answered immediately. "Any time you need to, you are more than welcome."

"Thank you," Machaira replied shakily. "Thank you, all of you." She addressed the room at large, shoulders rolling in a bit at having everyone stare at her. "I am, I'm so sorry for ruining the night like this. And I'm sorry I didn't call you Tuesday." She apologized to Adaine directly, head bowing in shame.

"Don't be," Adaine responded instantly. "You had enough to deal with. I should have been there for you, too."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," Fig protested. "We're your friends."

"Christ, no, of course." Fabian pulled his hands down his face. "Don't apologize for that."

"We did literally ask for this," Riz admitted.

"And we haven't started dinner yet," Gorgug added. Kristen finger snapped and pointed at the half-orc.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Sklonda asked. "You're more than welcome to." Machaira nodded shyly. "Great, it should be ready soon."

"Can we keep petting you?" Fig asked. "This is weirdly relaxing."

"I don't think Adaine wants to let go of her anytime soon," Kristen piped up with a lecherous grin and an exaggerated creepy wink at the high elf. Machaira shrank from the cleric. Adaine looked down at the tabaxi with a smile and a blush.

"I really don't," she admitted. Machaira butted the crown of her skull against Adaine's collarbone to hide her embarrassed joy. "But, Machaira, I, uh, I do have a question for you." The tabaxi took a deep breath and looked up at Adaine. The other girl bit her lip, looking down at Machaira with nervous desire. "Can I, can I touch your ears?" Machaira's ears flattened. Her breathing picked up. The rogue shrunk inward but didn't let go of her friend.

"I, I, I mean…" Machaira stuttered a train of nonsense syllables in an impromptu Fabian impression. "You, you know how, how – "

"No, I do," Adaine stepped in hastily. "I know. I get how much of a trigger that is. But I, I…" The wizard glanced at their audience as if wishing that they weren't there before squaring her thin shoulders and turning resolutely toward Machaira. "I want to show you that I, we, care about you, kind of undo or push back against…" She took a quick, sharp breath. "I want you to feel safe. And I want to do it in a way that's meaningful, if you'll let me."

Machaira drew her arms back to her chest. There was a big difference between touching her tail or her back through her clothes and what Adaine was asking. Her scars flared with phantom pains. With everyone in the room, she should have felt trapped and on display. But, looking into Adaine's face, Machaira almost forgot about the others. Her friend was nervous, but her eyes were filled with love and concern. The elf's gaze was not soft but fierce, determined to see her goal through: confident Adaine making another appearance. In this case, her goal was to make Machaira feel cared for. No, it was to prove that Machaira could trust her to be there for her.

The tabaxi shivered, daunted by the weighty proposal, but found herself nodding a 'yes'. She slowly, fearfully, lowered the crown of her skull to Adaine's chest, presenting the back of her head and neck. The last time she had presented herself to be touched like this was with the ursine. Every instinct in her body screamed at her not to do this save for one, the one that took in Adaine's scent and found nothing but comfort in it. She felt Adaine's hand trail along her back over her jacket. The sensation brought waves of dread crashing about her subconscious, and she shook harder. Adaine's hand stilled at the collar of her jacket. Machaira reached out and seized her wrist. The scout slowly eased her grip and slid her hand over Adaine's, guiding the wizard toward the space between her ears. As the tip of the elf's finger brushed her head fur, Machaira froze, and let go of Adaine's hand.

It was another few moments before the light pressure fell between her ears, and Machaira had to fight to hold back a howl. Memories of attack, betrayal, and deprecation came pouring in, overpowering her. Tears once more sprang to her eyes. She needed to run, hide, or fight back. But this was Adaine; she had nothing to fight against. After a few agonizing moments, the memories became distorted, fuzzy. Her panic mellowed, trickling away like snowmelt. Before, her confession had felt like a part of her defenses had had been ripped open. Now, it felt like a scar inside her was dissolving in the face of a soft warmth spreading from her head and across her body, seeping deep into the tabaxi's battered, tired muscles to her soul. Machaira's senses dimmed and eventually died away as a gentle, dark blanket was pulled over her mind, leaving only the beautiful caress against her head and a secure, black embrace.

"**If I get string cheese and you get crackers, we can have cheese and crackers." Kristen's vending machine dinner**

Adaine felt ridiculous and nervous as she stroked her friend's head. What was she thinking? This had to be weird, right? Machaira had pet her, but that was in private when Adaine was having a panic attack, not in a room full of people. She knew how heavy a trigger this had to be for the scout. The elf felt like she was just further traumatizing her friend at this point. Adaine's nerves began to catch up with her. She was on the verge of stopping right there and pretending like she was done when she noticed Machaira's terrified quivering had slowed under her hand. Eventually the tabaxi stilled completely, muscles easing as she relaxed under Adaine's touch. Machaira arched her neck up toward her fingers. A sound began to build on the edge of her hearing. Adaine's hand tingled against Machaira's head.

Adaine grinned with glee as Machaira purred. The rumble grew in strength, so low and powerful that it was more of a tremor in the air than a true noise. Adaine's entire body vibrated with it as she sank back against the floor, posture falling out of the rigid position she had been taught to hold at all times. The purr ignited primal emotions in the deepest recesses of her mind where logic held no sway, buried memories of warmth and safety and love. Adaine ruffled the tips of her nails against the tabaxi's scars, and the purr swelled to fill the room. Her friends all began to laugh softly, easing into more comfortable positions as the sound affected them as well. The wizard knew there was no sorcery in the purring, only a basal understanding of tender ideas that transcended culture, language, or species.

Adaine had wanted to pet Machaira properly for a long time, ever since the tabaxi admitted that she liked it during her furry rant. Now she never wanted to stop. Machaira's coat was every bit as soft as she had imagined. The fur on her head was short and fine like on her hand or face, but her mane was a different story altogether. The thick ruff began just behind her ears, growing longer and fluffier down her neck to her shoulders. To Adaine's delight, it was in fact dense enough to hide her whole hand inside of it. The wizard wasted no time burying her thin fingers in the mass of silky fur, nestling deeper through her pelt to gently scratch the skin beneath. Her other hand lightly petted the rogue around the ears, fingers carefully caressing the claws marks that tore across her skull. Machaira's body had gone limp on her lap, head swaying slightly with the motions of her fingers. The purring rose in power until, just as Machaira had told her, the furniture began to shake. A chair skittered across the floor and had to be chased down by a giggling Gorgug. Plates rattled on the counter, and thin sheets of dust fell from the ceiling.

"Oh my god," Kristen exclaimed slowly, face split with a wild grin.

"This is the best thing ever," Fig laughed, smiling hugely.

"This is pretty awesome," Riz agreed. "But our neighbors are gonna fucking hate us."

"They can go fuck off," Fig asserted, leaning back against the wall. "We are gonna be doing this a lot."

"Christ, I can't believe she actually fucking purrs," Fabian laughed without malice. Adaine's face hurt from smiling. She moved her hand from the scout's skull to her ear, rubbing the velvety flap of skin between her thumb and forefinger. Machaira twisted her head into the touch, eyes closed in pleasure. Adaine curled her fingers and gripped a fistful of fur in the tabaxi's ruff, rocking her wrist backward the way Machaira had shown her. The purring spiked again, knocking a couple of plastic cups over as the table rocked beneath them. Machaira wrapped her arms around Adaine's waist, but the rogue's normal strength had deserted her. Claws weakly flexed against her uniform. The fluffy tail whisked up off the floor, curling over her back to lie atop Adaine's arm.

As Adaine took in Machaira's blissful expression, the wizard realized that her nerves were gone. The seeds of anxiety that always lay deep in the back of her mind had melted away. In the face of the intimacy she was sharing with Machaira, the world wasn't scary or complicated. Her stress had so completely evaporated, Adaine felt almost light-headed. Peace stole over the high elf. She realized that she liked providing this joy and comfort. She liked the warmth that radiated from Machaira, banishing the residual chills from the air conditioner and her family's treatment of her the past few days. Adaine especially liked the bond of affection that flowed between them, present before but fully expressed now. Unfortunately, it didn't last.

"I hate to break this up, but I don't think the apartment can take this for much longer," Sklonda informed them, giving the girls a knowing smile. "If the two of wouldn't mind picking this up later?" Adaine blushed and reluctantly detached her hands. Machaira's muzzle chased her a bit, nosing a retreating palm before flopping onto Adaine's leg, purrs still rumbling up from her chest. "Machaira, kiddo," Sklonda tried to get the tabaxi's attention.

"I don't think she can hear you," Riz laughed. The other goblin seemed to be correct. Machaira remained in a haze, shifting to lie her muzzle along Adaine's thigh. Kristen poked Machaira in the butt with her staff. Her claws pulled at Adaine's back, and her tail flicked a bit, but otherwise the Machaira did not react, deaf to the world. Her purrs gradually fell to silence. Her face, the fur of which was still stained dark with tear marks, was soft with content, completely at odds with the thumping of unnamed residents of Strongtower Luxury Apartments running through the halls above them.

They all had a good laugh at the confused people upstairs. Adaine smirked and swiped her thumb over Machaira's cheek. The tabaxi sighed, spread her jaws, and mouthed Adaine's thigh, gripping her leg without applying pressure. For a moment, the elf could feel the power in her jaws. Machaira's fangs gleamed a dull ivory, almost as strong and hard as daggers. But the elf knew her friend wouldn't hurt her, and sure enough Machaira let go after a moment, rubbing her muzzle on Adaine's knee before dropping her head again. The party chuckled, and after a minute or two Machaira seemed to more or less come to her senses, blinking groggily. Slowly her expression morphed from sleepy happiness to utter mortification.

"Please… PLEASE tell me I didn't…" The tabaxi begged Adaine, staring up from the high elf's lap.

"You purred," Adaine confirmed happily. "So loudly. I told you I'd hear it." Machaira groaned and covered her face with her hands, rolling off of Adaine and onto the floor. They all had another laugh at their tabaxi before Kristen started asking Fig about a moderately sexy rat she'd seen that morning. Soon the party descended into their usual nonsense and took seats around the table. Gilear had to step out to answer a call on his crystal. While he was out, Sklonda picked up dinner. Machaira did her best not to draw any further attention to herself for the rest of the night, only speaking when spoken to and keeping her body pulled inward.

While they waited for Sklonda, Adaine scooted to sit closer to the tabaxi. Machaira kept brushing up against her, much to the rogue's embarrassment. Adaine felt hypersensitive to these touches, each little contact sending lines of fire along her legs. But the wizard did nothing to discourage them, even intentionally grazing against Machaira's tail and jeans from time to time. Although the rogue was clearly embarrassed, she soon stopped flinching away from Adaine and even looped her tail around the high elf's ankle. Adaine wasn't totally sure why she was doing this. It felt like a secret that she very much wanted to stay between them, but she didn't want to break physical contact with her friend. Eventually Machaira settled, not quite comfortable but not openly anxious either. Adaine decided to count that as a win and spent dinner playing footsie with Machaira's tail, for which she was met with no resistance save the occasional tail flick.

Sklonda returned about fifteen minutes later with takeout Bastion Market, all of which was greasy and breaded in some way. Fig rushed off to retrieve Gilear. While most of the party seemed excited for the meal, the three more reasonable voices of the group pursed their lips and kept quiet. Fig, who had been sitting between Sklonda and Gilear's chairs, asked her father to switch places with her so she could sit next to Gorgug, grinning mischievously at the two when they weren't looking. Adaine loved the tiefling, but she was wary of whatever scheme Fig might have settled on.

"Alright, kids, go ahead and eat," Sklonda said, passing containers of food around the table. Adaine quietly took a little container of elven whey bread from her backpack and ate that instead. Adaine had already explained to the party that she had Celiac disease, which prevented her from eating anything with gluten in it. Fabian pushed his serving to The Ball when Sklonda wasn't looking. Machaira hesitantly sniffed around a bit before selecting a few bites of fried meat that she could peel the breading off of. The tabaxi wolfed down her meal in three gulps. Her expression sharpened, and she licked her fangs. As Machaira carefully placed her hands in her lap, stomach gurgling, Adaine wondered when she had last eaten.

"Sklonda, this meal is exquisite," Gilear told the detective. Fig was immediately overcome with giggles. Adaine felt her face pulling into a smile against her will and struggled to maintain control. She knew Fig's plan now, and it had more merit than most of her other ideas. Riz smirked and shook his head, completely taken by surprise. "This corned bread is particularly scrumptious. It reminds me of lembas. Uh, do you have lembas wherever you're from? Where are you – you from the Mountain of Chaos?" Adaine's smile faded. Sklonda looked up at Gilear.

"I'm from Bastion City," she corrected Gilear slowly. "Uh, I didn't make any of this. This is takeout. I've sort of worked a long shift." Gilear looked down at the table for a moment. When he lifted his head and faced the goblin, Adaine could see that the wood elf had collected every scrap of dignity and charisma he had for this. Fig grinned, bouncing just a tiny bit in anticipation.

"Sklonda, I have rudely interjected myself, ignorantly, into this conversation." Gilear began with promise. Adaine leaned forward to watch. Fig stared unashamedly. "I… I won't lie to you, Sklonda. I… found out recently that… one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking that I have a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't think was possible for elves… to get." Adaine and Kristen covered their mouths with their hands to hide their silent laughter. Gorgug cracked a smile. Fabian stared ahead in quiet pity. Fig winked at her stepdad, and the glow of bardic inspiration was consumed almost as soon as it appeared. "I… should see myself out. I… it's been a long time since I've, sort of, spoken with anyone, and I've made a fool of myself." Fig stared, mouth held open in dismay as he stood to leave. Gorgug peered at Gilear as if trying to see what was wrong with him.

"Ahhh, Gil, it's okay," Sklonda protested. "It's fine. You can take a seat. Ah, can I get you anything to drink? Want anything to drink?"

"I, I actually brought this," Gilear remembered, pulling a bottle out of a plastic bag he'd left on the counter when he first arrived. "It's a bottle of elven wine." Gilear presented Sklonda with a giant bottle of cheap, warehouse-brand elven wine. Gilear popped it open and poured a glass for the goblin. Sklonda knocked the glass back. Riz bit his nails. Fabian smirked and raised his eyebrows at Gilear, reevaluating.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Sklonda told Gilear. "I haven't had a glass of elven wine in a, I don't even know how long." Fig looked about the party, face held in a frozen, silent scream of triumph. The two adults spent most of the meal chatting and drinking. Sklonda apparently liked elven wine a lot and got a little too deep into her cups. The goblin had told them what the commissioner had allowed her to before Machaira's arrival, but with the wine to loosen her lips, she began to discuss more details surrounding the case.

"Yeah, you guys did amazing work," she admitted. "That was something really incredible. I, I can't tell ya' how proud I am. Uh, obviously, ya' know, don't kill any more of your teachers. But – "

"We only killed one," Fabian pointed out.

"Sure."

"The other two killed each other," Fabian stressed.

"Yeah, and, technically, I mean, the coach isn't even a teacher," Adaine added. Machaira quirked a smile.

"I suppose you haven't killed any academic faculty yet," Sklonda conceded.

"Exactly," Fabian agreed, smiling.

"You did kill a lunch lady," Riz reminded Adaine.

"_Adaine_ killed a lunch lady," Fabian repeated. Adaine winced. She was still not totally over Doreen. Machaira's hand found hers under the table, wrapping around the back of her palm.

"I mean, we all killed her together," Adaine protested. "It wasn't just me."

"We did not do it together," Fabian denied empirically. "You exclusively beat her over the head with a ladle." Adaine shrank inward a bit, pursing her lips and staring at the table. Machaira gave her hand a squeeze and rubbed her thumb over the back of her hand in soothing circles. The tabaxi was still reticent, body drawn inward, but she offered the high elf a sympathetic look.

"Uh, mom, what does, ha – have you found any evidence about the missing girls with this Harvestmen stuff?" Riz asked. Sklonda nodded. Kristen turned her glass almost upside down and gulped her entire drink in one swallow. Gorgug sputtered a giggle through clenched lips. Adaine openly laughed, breath hitching as she went from guilty to happy on a coin flip.

"Many apologies," Kristen declared. They all fully laughed at her. Machaira merely smiled. She went to remove her hand now that Adaine was okay, and the wizard seized her under the table, quickly forcing her fingers between Machaira's. The rogue flinched a bit as Adaine clasped her as if she expected something harsher. The high elf tried to mimic Machaira and rubbed the rogue's hand with her thumb, but she could feel her own jerkiness and lack of rhythm. Despite this, the other girl relaxed a bit and gave her hand a much more modest squeeze in response.

"Yeah, uh, we've been tracking them," Sklonda promised. "We think Daybreak may have sent the palimpsests to Highcourt. There's a lot of Harvestmen and religious fundamentalists in the nation of Highcourt. So now it's just kind of a waiting game. We have to wait for the State Department to give us some kind of extradition and allow us to conduct a foreign kind of investigation."

"Say no more," Fig announced, smiling cheekily. Sklonda straightened a bit, turning to the tiefling.

"Oh, for sure not," she said hastily, pointing at the bard. "Not for you." Adaine giggled at Fig's insistence of clinging to her lie. "I actually am going to speak to your father about it soon, Adaine." Sklonda informed her. "Um, because we might need Fallinel's help. Highcourt is, um… they're in a very politically unstable place. We think some elven mediation will probably help us."

"Um… can I give you some advice that you might not want to hear?" Adaine asked slowly.

"Sure."

"I would have, maybe, if you have a colleague who is an elf – my dad sucks," Adaine finished awkwardly, waving a hand in a _cut off_ motion, face falling into distressed shame. Sklonda took a deep breath. "Have an elf talk to him." Adaine rushed, wincing.

"Gotcha," Sklonda sighed. "Rodger that, yeah. I appreciate the uh – being straight forward. It is what it is." The goblin assured Adaine as the elf tried to stumble through an apology.

"I think your dad's a racist," Kristen voiced unnecessarily. Adaine nodded a bit, working a finger around the collar of her shirt. Machaira tightened her hold on Adaine's hand, giving the diviner a supportive glance. Adaine smiled back, and Machaira let go of her hand, arms folding awkwardly into her lap. Adaine patted her knee under the table, and Machaira's tail looped twice around her calf.

"I know a good, very charismatic elf that could, that is like a diplomat," Fig told Sklonda.

"Mm, this yogurt tastes just like potatoes," Gilear hummed. Adaine smirked, restraining her giggles. Fig and Riz openly laughed.

"That's mashed potatoes," Gorgug politely informed Gilear.

"Hmm?"

"You're just eating mashed potatoes," Riz reiterated.

"Ah," Gilear realized his blunder and pursed his lips. "I've, I've committed – "

"Not everything is yogurt," Riz said around his snickers.

"Another own goal for Gilear Faeth, yes," the wood elf rolled with the insult as only an uncool dad could.

"Own goal," Kristen cackled at Gilear's lack of sports knowledge.

"Alright," Gilear sighed. Fig tussled Gilear's patch of hair. "Op, that's my bald spot." Fig giggled with the rest of the party at her sad parent. "I was wondering why there wasn't fruit at the bottom, and now – "

"Of the potatoes?" Gorgug tried to clarify.

"You don't have to go into it, Gilear," Riz let him know.

"Yeah, yeah, it was a sad moment," Kristen tittered.

"You thought it was – " Riz began.

"I gotta be honest, I wanted more," Gorgug interrupted.

"I don't like mashed potatoes," Adaine offered.

"Run forward," Riz laughed, waving at Gorgug. They fell about their usual silliness for the rest of dinner. Machaira didn't laugh out loud, but she smiled a little more. Adaine liked her smile. She thought it was sweet. After they ate, Riz asked if they wanted to watch a movie. The party agreed on a title Adaine was not familiar with, some dumb comedy that no one especially liked or hated, essentially white noise to listen to while they had simultaneous food comas and joked around. However, as they were about to settle in, Sklonda pulled Machaira aside and asked to speak with her in private. The rogue shifted about a bit as she relented, looking uneasily at Adaine. The high elf nodded encouragingly, trying to hide her own unease.

As Machaira followed Sklonda into another room, the rest of the party divvied up seats on the floor. Since fitting everyone on the couch would be a nightmare, Fabian, Riz, and Kristen claimed the couch while the others sat on the floor. Adaine wasn't allowed to sit on the floor at home, and the novelty of hanging around on the carpet seemed like fun. Fig claimed that this was indeed where the fun people sat, and Kristen quickly switched to the floor crowd, leaving her seat free for Gorgug to take. The bard immediately cried treachery, citing that the boys now had the couch while the girls were sitting on the floor. After several minutes of chicanery, Kristen, Fabian, and Riz stayed on the couch while the others spread out around the floor. Adaine propped her back against the right arms of the couch, shifting Kristen's leg to the side. As they started the movie, Adaine kept glancing over at the door Sklonda had led Machaira through.

The high elf was more than a little shaken by the night's events. While she had suspected that Machaira more or less took care of herself, she at least thought the tabaxi had some semblance of a home or family to go to, even if it was a crappy one. When Machaira admitted that she lived in a camp in the woods, Adaine wasn't sure how to take it. Strictly speaking, Machaira hadn't outright lied, but she'd certainly skated over the truth plenty of times. Yes, it was Machaira's business how much she wanted to reveal about her life, and yes Adaine felt bad for her. But she felt like that was important information that her best friend should have been comfortable enough to tell her. Adaine had been more than a bit hurt.

Then Machaira stood up to her parents again. Her rage had been explosive, frightening to behold even as the beneficiary. As much as Adaine loved seeing someone take her parents down a peg, Machaira's tirade had been stunning for greater reasons. The high elf had thought several of the things she'd said for years but never had the courage to say them. That Machaira would give those thoughts voice without Adaine telling them to her was a little jarring but also reassuring. She'd felt closer to Machaira then, despite the recent revelation. The support and respect the tabaxi had shown her was awesome, but Machaira's promise to see everything through was even better. Adaine had left the police station fortified, determined to see what happened next.

Perhaps that was why she had been so angry at her the past two days. After they got home, Adaine's parents had laid into her for hours. The endless harangue coupled with exhaustion from the battle eventually broke down the energy she'd taken from Machaira's speech. Adaine had started to hyperventilate and cry, which only reinforced her parents' idea that she didn't know what she was doing. Aelwyn had watched the entire time, only ever speaking when Adaine tried to defend herself, perfect, refined voice easily drowning out Adaine's nervous mousy whispers. Panic attacks rolled in like waves, continuing long after Adaine was finally released to go to bed. She had curled up on top of the sheets feeling miserable and weak, drifting in and out of a restless doze.

But for the first time since starting Aguefort, she didn't have Machaira to comfort her. The tabaxi hadn't called, and Adaine had been afraid of what that might mean. The rogue HAD to know what her parents were like and how upset Adaine would be. Machaira had said she would see this through with them, but she'd been lying to them all for weeks. Adaine felt like she'd been lied to just then, lying alone and unwanted in her room. When Machaira didn't contact her at all that night or the next day, a confused and wounded Adaine decided that Machaira really didn't care about her. They had only known each other a few weeks after all. She would hear her story then keep Machaira at arm's reach. The wizard knew, at some level, she was being harsh, but she was also angry and hurt and didn't see what Machaira could possibly have to say that would justify abandoning Adaine to her nasty family.

Throughout Machaira's confession, Adaine had been numb with horror and self-loathing. As bad as her family was, Machaira's upbringing had been brutal beyond anything she'd imagined. Adaine understood why Machaira would want to hide her past. The high elf knew she would never have been able to talk about any of that if she had been in Machaira's place. She'd have simply estranged herself from the party altogether to avoid having to relive it. Scratch that, Adaine would have died long before she reached that point. The wizard had almost asked Machaira to stop talking because she was fighting back panic attacks just hearing about it. She also knew why the scout didn't call her. Confessing to this over the crystal when she couldn't see Adaine's reaction – no. That would have been so much scarier for the rogue.

Finally Machaira's defenses had broken. She's given in to the party's demands, but the emotional strain had cracked whatever mental walls she'd erected against the trauma. Machaira's last few statements, forced out around tears by the trembling tabaxi, had cut Adaine deeply. _I'm just a stray that was too mean and ugly to get taken in_. The shame in her eyes ran deep, and Adaine knew then that Machaira truly believed every terrible thing she had been told about herself. And that fact was so fundamentally wrong it hurt.

Adaine had meant it when she said that Machaira was the strongest person she knew. The wizard couldn't imagine anyone surviving what the rogue had and emerging as anything halfway decent, much less as loving as Machaira was. Compared to the tabaxi's history, Adaine's family and panic attacks felt almost minor. Her family was cold and callous, but they weren't monsters. She'd been given at least some protection and care, especially when she was younger. Hell, their whole party probably couldn't muster that kind of suffering among them. But Machaira had never belittled Adaine for her moments of weakness. She'd been nothing but supportive, loving even, in her treatment of Adaine and the party as a whole. _Just because you haven't seen me breakdown doesn't mean I don't have those moments_. Machaira had told her that weeks ago, but Adaine hadn't believed her. Well, Machaira had broken down, and she'd been convinced that her friends would turn on her just like everyone else had. And Adaine couldn't even blame her because the elf had been ready to dismiss Machaira herself just minutes before.

Adaine wasn't angry anymore. She just wanted Machaira to be okay. When Machaira flinched and cried at Adaine's hug, trembling with terror that the wizard would hurt her, the high elf's panic calcified into a steely promise. This girl had brought love and warmth back into her life, and Adaine was determined to do the same for her. She understood that the tabaxi would need years to recover from this, and Adaine would be there every step of the way.

About twenty-five minutes into the movie, Machaira and Sklonda reemerged almost soundlessly. Sklonda patted her arm and walked over to the kitchen to talk to Gilear, who had taken up the dishwashing. Machaira shifted in place outside the door, looking uneasily at her party members. With the lights turned off for the movie, the tabaxi's dark clothes were almost totally black to Adaine's dark vision. Machaira glanced over and took a cautious step sideways toward the front door, tail trembling on the floor. Adaine immediately gestured for her to come over. Machaira froze, ears back. Adaine tried to smile, swallowing her distress, and waved her over again. Machaira hesitantly padded over, dropping onto her knees to avoid blocking the screen. Riz walked over to the kitchen to talk to his mom.

As the tabaxi slunk past toward the space between the couch and the wall, Adaine reached out and took her shoulders, tugging back gently. Machaira flinched, looking back at Adaine uncertainly. Adaine tugged again, and Machaira slowly relented, allowing Adaine to pull her to the elf's chest. Adaine leaned back on the couch as Machaira curled up against her chest, face tucked into the elf's collar. Machaira drew herself into a fetal position, shoulders rolling in. Adaine sandwiched her friend between her own legs. She began to rub Machaira's back as the rogue settled into place. A fluffy tail wound about her waist where it belonged.

"Mom, what were you doing with Machaira?" Riz asked. Sklonda sighed.

"I was taking an official statement," she admitted. The goblins were trying to be quiet, but the apartment was tiny. The couch was maybe fifteen feet away, and everyone but Kristen had exceptional hearing. "I let her go because she's a student at the academy, but not every cop is going to be so lenient to an illegal immigrant, especially a young tabaxi girl. Technically she's a minor, and her parents still have legal authority over her. Most cops would have turned her in to be deported back to them in Tybal Terra. It might still happen if she gets in trouble with the law again. I want her to pledge herself to the Charter of Solace and become a citizen. But to do that, she needs to confess to any past crimes so that she can be cleared of them by the Council. I was going over her past to make an official transcript, but I didn't have the heart to finish." Machaira hid against Adaine as the goblins looked over at her. Adaine rubbed her friend's back more vigorously, holding her close. The wyvern scales were bumpy under her hand.

"What if your parents come back for you?" Kristen asked loudly, leaning over the couch to peer down into Machaira's face.

"No," Machaira rasped. Adaine's heart pulled. Sher sounded awful, exhausted and miserable.

"This stuff with the Harvestmen is going international," Kristen pressed. "It'll probably be big news. Suppose they hear about it? They could come find you and – "

"No," Machaira growled, grabbing herself with crossed arms, claws unsheathed. "No, that, no, no – "

"That won't happen," Adaine snarled fiercely, turning a blazing blue gaze between the rogue and cleric. "They won't come for you. And even if they did, they're not your family anymore." Machaira met Adaine's gaze with wide eyes. The tabaxi was clearly emotionally exhausted and scared. Adaine petted her from the forehead down her skull and neck before she lost her nerve. Machaira flinched sharply and whimpered at her touch but pushed her face against Adaine's chest, shivering. Adaine petted her again, and Machaira crooned quietly and wrapped her arms around Adaine's waist under the blazer, quivers easing back as Adaine continued to touch her. Kristen got her 'sexy rat' look, but Fig thumped her on the calf before the cleric could say anything.

Adaine didn't retain a thing from the movie. Machaira was warm in her arms, supporting enough of her own weight to be comfortable instead of crushing. She stroked her friend softly, languidly scratching her head, her ears, her mane. Machaira was all but asleep, purring drowsily under Adaine's ministrations. The sound reverberated through her chest, filling her mind with a soft sense of content. The others seemed to feel the same because soon the party had gone from boisterous and teasing to quiet and smiley, heads nodding on slumped shoulders as they tried to stay awake. Fig occasionally flashed a weird smile at Adaine when she thought the wizard wasn't looking, but there was nothing vicious in the expression.

Though they were in a room with other people, the moment was profoundly more intimate than anything Adaine had shared before. Machaira hardly moved save for when she nuzzled Adaine or turned her head to provide better access for the elf, dead to everything and anything that wasn't Adaine. The wizard likewise did not move except to lean further back against the couch, fingers roaming tenderly through the scout's silky fur. Twice Adaine stopped scratching her, hand resting peacefully in Machaira's fluffy mane. The tabaxi would rub her muzzle on Adaine's shoulder, tickling her a few times before settling placidly against her chest again. When she did this Adaine would giggle and resume petting her, prompting a louder purr. Adaine resolved to make time for this as much as she could. Strongtower might not be the best place for it, though. While neither the scratching nor the purring was as intense as earlier, Sklonda had to ask them to tone it down a few times.

When the movie ended, the party began to split up and go home. Gilear woke Fig, gently shaking her shoulder. The tiefling then kicked Kristen in the leg until she got up, and all three departed down the hall. Fabian called a Lyft for him and Gorgug. Riz muttered goodnight and slumped off to take a shower per his mother's insistence. Machaira was now fully asleep in Adaine's embrace, muzzle tucked under the wizard's left arm. Adaine had emerged from the drowsing state that passed for elven sleep and was trying to extend the moment for as long as possible.

"Hey, you should call your parents, kiddo," Sklonda murmured to her. "It's pretty late. Machaira can sleep on the couch tonight and take the bus to school with Riz tomorrow."

"I don't want to let go of her," Adaine complained quietly. She knew she was being unreasonable and petulant to a laughable degree, but the wizard was loath to ruin the moment. Sklonda gave her a knowing smirk that brought a blush to Adaine's face, though the elf wasn't sure why.

"I can see that," the goblin teased. "But you're going to have to let go at some point. And then it's all the more special when she comes back." Adaine's blush deepened. She tried to protest, but the diviner wasn't sure exactly what she was protesting or trying to say all. "You'll see Machaira at school tomorrow."

"I don't want to leave her alone tonight," Adaine said. "She's, it's been a hard night for her."

"It has," Sklonda agreed. "It sounds like she's had a lot of hard nights. And she'll have more to come. She'll need you and your friends, even if she doesn't know or admit it yet. But you can't hold her hand forever. I think you know that." Adaine pursed her lips. A sullen voice in her head said that Sklonda was blowing the situation out of proportion, but Adaine got the point. She looked down at Machaira, mouth pulling into a sad frown.

"I really don't want to go back to my parents," she admitted quietly. "I like being with her." Adaine pursed her lips and started to stand, carefully easing out from under the tabaxi. Sklonda grabbed her shoulder. The detective's expression had changed to understanding, layered with something sad and almost motherly. The goblin sighed.

"You can stay here with Machaira for the night," Sklonda relented. "Call your parents and tell them where you'll be. I'll get some blankets from the closet." Sklonda walked away. Adaine blinked, digesting the sudden change in plan, and whipped out her crystal. She called her mom's cell, knowing that Arianwyn wouldn't answer at this time of night.

"Mom, I'm spending the night at Riz's place," she said to the answering machine. "Bye." As Adaine hung up, Sklonda came back with a blanket. The older woman clearly didn't approve of Adaine's blasé message, but she didn't say anything about it.

"I'm guessing that you'll only be needing one blanket," the detective assumed. Adaine blushed but nodded. The wizard stood and tried to scoop Machaira into her arms. She had forgotten that this tiny tabaxi had a good twenty pounds of muscle on her and only succeeded in pushing her semi-upright. Machaira growled in complaint, uncurling and staring about tiredly.

"Hey, it's late," Adaine whispered, standing straight and trying to pretend that she hadn't just tried to pick up this much stronger girl. "Time for bed."

"I _was_ sleeping," Machaira grumbled, rising to her feet.

"Sklonda said we could stay here for tonight," Adaine told her. Machaira flattened her ears, shuffling uncomfortably.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gukgak," she murmured.

"Yes, thank you," Adaine repeated with more feeling.

"Sure thing. Goodnight, girls." Sklonda bade, waving as she walked to her room.

"You can take the couch," Machaira told Adaine quietly.

"Well, I mean, we could, you know, maybe, share, if you were, okay with, would want that," Adaine stammered, suddenly finding it hard to meet Machaira's eyes. Machaira studied her shyly, shoulders drawn in. Her front four teeth peeked out to grip her lip.

"I, I would, if that's, sure, okay. Yes." Machaira replied in kind, red showing through the white on her cheeks. The rogue kicked off her boots and tucked them between the couch and the wall. Adaine hurried to follow suit with her own shoes and began to shake out the blanket. Machaira hesitantly lay down, pressing herself against the back of the couch.

"Um, you can take off your jacket, if you want," Adaine told her. "Not that you have to, I just, it doesn't look great to sleep in." Machaira shrank back against the couch a bit, staring up at Adaine. Her eyes glowed bright, blazing amber, the glints of harsh orange streetlights that slipped in between the blinds reflected into something beautiful. _Like tiny suns_, Adaine thought again.

"I… I have a lot of scars," Machaira whispered. "And I, I, I know you'll still – you'll still be my friend, but I'm not ready to show you yet." Her shoulders rolled inward, ears flattening as the tabaxi tucked her fangs under her collar. Adaine felt her heart go out for her friend. "But, if, if you want, I, I can, I'll take – "

"No," Adaine interrupted her. "That's okay. I want you to show me only when you're ready." So that's why Machaira never took off her jacket. Adaine wasn't surprised that the scout had image problems, but it made her angry. Machaira was one of the most remarkable people she'd ever met, but she was so terrified of rejection that she felt the need to hide even from Adaine. The wizard remembered how she had felt unwanted at home and wondered if Machaira felt that way even more strongly.

Adaine sat down next to the tabaxi and stroked her, palm caressing her cheek and head down her neck. Machaira leaned into the touch and gave Adaine a look of shame, wonder, and gratitude. She held out her arms toward Adaine, and a thrill of delight ran through the high elf. Adaine was not a cuddler by nature, but she made an exception with Machaira. Adaine crawled into Machaira's embrace, quiet joy taking root as the tabaxi pulled her close. Machaira shifted to lie at a slant, leaving most of the couch available to Adaine. The wizard leaned back to grab the blanket and covered them while the rogue pulled the solitary pillow into place. While Machaira took only the far edge of the pillow, Adaine chose to rest her head on the scout's shoulder and leave the pillow largely useless. Machaira chuckled and shifted the pillow over so she could have some herself. Her tail heaved against the weight of the blanket before managing to slither out from under them, curling over their waists.

The first fall chills had really set it, but the air conditioner directly above them was still set to summer weather. Sklonda's blanket was worn and thin. Despite this, Adaine was not the least bit cold. She basked in the warmth that radiated from Machaira, lulling her to sleep once again. The blanket didn't keep the cold out, but it did make the world around her feel smaller, restricted to just the two girls if only for the moment. Adaine felt safe in her arms just as she did during a panic attack. The high elf slowly petted Machaira, drawing faint, drowsy purrs from the tabaxi, who rubbed her back softly in return.

"Thank you," Machaira murmured, the remains of a purr in her voice more soothing than any lullaby.

"For what?" Adaine whispered, but her friend was asleep. Adaine gently stroked her mane. Gorthalax had said that you choose your family. As she snuggled closer to the tabaxi, Adaine knew she had made a good choice.


	17. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 3: Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strife brings unlikely heroes together. Peace allows them to develop as people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a long time, and I am so sorry! The holidays were distracting, so here's a bit of fluff to tide you over. It will receive editing over the next few days, and I will try to turn out the next few chapters a little faster. I hope you all had a wonderful new year!
> 
> While pieces of the story from episode 11 will appear, most of the next couple chapters will be totally original.

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 3: Beginning**

"It's weird, isn't it?" Gorgug polled the group as Dayne and Penelope waved to the party on their way past.

"It's awesome," Fig countered, waving back.

"I mean, yeah, but it's still weird," Gorgug replied. It was a week after Machaira's reveal, and the party still wasn't used to their newfound status. At least, Adaine certainly wasn't. The seniors had stopped making fun of them. The school's aristocracy openly acknowledged them. The other freshmen always wanted to hang out with them. More than once Adaine had heard someone whisper that she belonged to _that_ party. They weren't exactly popular, but everyone knew them. The story that Coach Daybreak had kidnapped students, tried to start the apocalypse, and been brutally slain on the bloodrush field by the loser party of detention freshmen had turned the school on its head. Additionally, the experience earned on their quest put them head and shoulders over the other freshmen in their classes. Adaine had people approaching her after every period for help with assignments and questions about spellcasting. It was a nice ego boost, and the high elf knew she was flaunting it a bit.

"Pff, Fig and I were popular before," Fabian reminded them, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, but I'm in the A.V. club, and they talk to me," Riz shot back.

"And people don't make fun of me anymore," Gorgug added happily.

"Thank Ragh for that," Kristen giggled.

"This is a good weird," Adaine declared, receiving a nearly unanimous consensus from the party.

"It's a step up, but I don't think it's a big deal," Machaira moderated, tail whisking up over her legs. With no conspiracy to investigate, the party had been meeting at random locations around the school during second period, at first out of habit, then just as a time to chill. Today they were lounging about a fountain in a courtyard outside the magical departments. Fabian, Riz, and Kristen sat on a bench across the narrow footpath from the fountain while Gorgug sat on the ground with his back against the fountain. Fig and Adaine sat on the concrete rim of the fountain on either side of him with Machaira sprawled on her side between them.

"We're, like, the biggest freshmen in school," Fig said. "How are you not excited to be popular?"

"THEY admire US because WE are awesome," Machaira explained. "It's nice to be acknowledged, but their opinion doesn't affect our badass-ery." The tabaxi rested her head on crossed arms, impossibly comfortable upon the narrow space. Her tail slowly waved about, constantly dipping toward the water. Every time the tip touched the surface, her tail kinked up over her body, flicking droplets over Gorgug.

"Sorry," Machaira apologized to the barbarian.

"So, you don't care that no one is randomly picking fights with you in the hall anymore?" Riz asked. They all benefitted from their status jump, but the fact that Machaira hadn't needed medical attention on school grounds in the past week was one of Adaine's favorite parts.

"I'm not trying to bring us down," Machaira protested. "This is a good thing. I'm just saying that I know whose opinions matter to me, and they're all right here." She waved her tail in a circle, gesturing to the party before putting her head down again as if nothing else needed to be said. Smiles and smirks flashed among them. Adaine felt warmth rise within her. Machaira's muzzle was maybe an inch from her left thigh. Adaine could feel her whiskers against her skirt. She wanted to scratch her ears so badly but refrained.

"Okay, you know what's better?" Riz asked. "Not having to study. I never thought we'd have so much time to just hang out."

"I always thought we'd have this much time 'cause I wasn't gonna study anyway," Fig countered.

"No, I'm with Riz," Adaine argued over the party's titters. "I have to do well or my parents will kill me. Right now I'm top of my class, and we can still hang out all the time."

"Mmm, someone's a proud little peacock," Machaira teased. "But then, you have the right to be." The tabaxi opened her eyes to look straight up at Adaine, tail flicking against her back. Adaine swatted at her tail, and the limb whisked away, curling over Gorgug's shoulder. She hadn't purred since the night they slept on the Gukgak's couch, but once in a while, when she was feeling especially fond, her normal light, exotic accent gained a rippling undertone, a current of affection that soothed and warmed Adaine to listen to. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the wizard thought Machaira spoke to her in this way more often than the others.

"Pfft," Gorgug spat a few strands of fur out of his mouth.

"I am so sorry, Gorgug," Machaira apologized again, curling her tail over her hip. Suddenly the water in the fountain reached out and grabbed Machaira, splashing Fig, Adaine, and Gorgug in the process. The tabaxi yowled as the impossible wave swept her back into the concrete basin. Adaine started, breath hitching as her heart leapt into her throat. Machaira got to her hands and knees, spat out a mouthful of water, and hissed. Nearby students laughed but no more than the incident warranted. Machaira growled and started to shake herself but froze with a glance at the party. Fig reached out to pull her up. Adaine snapped out of her shock and tried to do the same, but Machaira was already clambering out of the fountain.

"What the fuck?" Kristen exclaimed.

"Seriously," Fabian seconded.

"Who did that?" Fig challenged the courtyard, swinging her bass off her back. Adaine cast Detect Magic and saw the fresh remains of a Shape Water cantrip lingering around a blond human with a bright pink cardigan on the far-left side of the fountain.

"Oh, you bitch," Adaine seethed, stalking towards her. Machaira hopped in front of her.

"Adaine, wait, is this really worth – "

"Yes." She interrupted firmly. Machaira met her gaze, blinked, shrugged, and stepped back with grin.

"What the hell, kick her ass." Machaira conceded, eyes sparkling with fierce anticipation and pride. It was the look of a tiger that smelled blood and a friend that had full confidence in her all at once. Adaine smirked evilly and strode towards Lindsey. The sorcerer hadn't advanced as quickly through the social ranks as she had probably hoped, but she was still fairly well-known and respected. Lindsey had just resumed making comments about Adaine's clothes and spreading rumors about why she'd dropped her orb when the Daybreak incident turned the pecking order on its head. Adaine noted the uncertainty in her eyes with savage satisfaction. The sorcerer probably hadn't expected her little stunt to provoke such a strong reaction. She wasn't ready to cement their places in the hierarchy, but after that performance Adaine was more than ready to put her in her place.

"Uh, like, what do you want, Mumple Girl?" Lindsey sneered, not quite hiding her trepidation. The wizard cast Ray of Sickness, force feeding the human a stream of green liquid from her fingertip. Linsey doubled over, vomiting across the concrete between them.

"We're not playing games here," Adaine informed her. "Fuck off my friends." Lindsey took a step back and stood shakily, glaring daggers at Adaine. She wiped her mouth off and immediately coughed up another chunk of half-digested food. Adaine fiercely loved and hated that spell.

"Fine, let's stop playing," Lindsey ground out, eyes glowing with magic.

"Oh, bitch, that's your ass," Fig announced, strumming her bass. The other members of Adaine's party stood and drew their weapons. While Adaine hadn't told them exactly what had passed between herself and the sorcerer, they knew the gist of it. Machaira stepped in front of them, holding out an arm.

"Our girl's got this," she told them easily. "Let's sit back and enjoy the slaughter." Adaine flashed a smile at the tabaxi over her shoulder and quickly turned back to her opponent. Lindsey's expression had switched from panic to sneering determination. Her two groupies, neither of whom Adaine could attach a name to, raised their hands, channeling spell energy. "I wouldn't." Machaira cautioned them, moving about ten feet to Adaine's right and grasping the handle of her saber. "Lindsey started this; she can finish it." Fig cackled and moved to her other side.

"Yes, let's not interfere," Fabian agreed, blocking the escape route behind them. The fighter loaded his crossbow. Adaine's party ringed the three girls, aiming for the nameless goons that followed Lindsey. The terrified girls backed off but were not allowed to pass the circle. Lindsey was already sweating, face paling until it matched the high elf's skin tone. Adaine grinned, absorbing confidence from her friends' presence. Other students, mostly magic users, stood at a greater distance to watch. A few catcalls were whistled, but Adaine ignored them. The morality behind Aguefort was piss off whoever you wanted and reap the consequences, so fights like this were not uncommon. However, since popularity was partially determined by adventuring skill, fights also tended to be brutal.

"Fuck her up," Fig cheered.

"Yes, put this girl in her proper place," Fabian called.

"Go Adaine," Kristen hollered.

"Yaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh," Gorgug yelled, too excited to say real words.

"Please don't kill her," Riz requested. Machaira said nothing, merely smiling and nodding her head towards Lindsey like _go get her_. Adaine smirked. Big improvement over her first meeting with the sorcerer.

Lindsey got initiative, firing a barrage of magic missiles. The impacts staggered Adaine like punches, leaving hot bruises in their wake. But Adaine wasn't daunted. She stepped forward and cast Burning Hands, sending allies and enemies alike hopping back to avoid the flames. Lindsey, not dexterous enough to escape, screamed and collapsed, barely conscious and reeking of charred flesh and fabric. Adaine felt a little bad about that, but she'd learned to take these fights seriously. Lindsey would drop Adaine if the elf didn't get her first. The sorcerer cast Fire Bolt but missed, singing the leaves of an oak behind Adaine. Adaine cast Tasha's Hideous Laughter.

"You, you, you think, haha, that, aha, you are ahahahaha," the human girl broke off into hearty guffaws that didn't compliment the vibe she dressed for. Adaine smiled down at Lindsey, flapping the fingers of one hand up and down at her in the most disdainful wave she could manage. Adaine stepped deliberately over the sorcerer and began to walk away, calling back to her friends over her shoulder.

"Come on, let's go somewhere less lame," she said. "Her cardigan is hurting my eyes." Her party roared with laughter as they casually fled the scene before a teacher could get there. Her friends congratulated her for the easy victory, whooping and snickering and bumping each other around a little as they celebrated. Adaine briefly reflected on their obvious joy at violence for the sake of spite before shrugging the fact away and enjoying the moment. Machaira, still sopping wet, did not touch her but flashed her a proud, smug grin. The rogue strode calmly alongside Adaine, satisfied that her predication had been correct.

"I don't think she'll come after you again," the tabaxi predicted, shivering. Adaine cast Gust of Wind to try and dry her off. Machaira shivered harder, hissed, and retreated, only marginally drier than before

"Sorry, I thought that would help," Adaine apologized. Machaira grumbled, tail flicking erratically.

"You're fine, I just want to dry off before – " The warning bell rang for third period. "That." Machaira finished without enthusiasm. The party separated for their next two periods. By lunch Machaira had managed to dry her head fur in the bathroom but her clothes remained damp even after two hours in the cold air conditioning. Machaira was almost never mean or rude when she was unhappy but instead became taciturn and withdrawn. Still, the tabaxi assured Adaine that seeing her beat the crap out of Lindsey was worth it.

Machaira let Adaine babble about her fourth period pop quiz and made a point to actively engage in the conversation without pulling focus even though the wizard knew her friend had almost no interest in magic. But, where Adaine was involved, she made an effort to understand the subject matter. Since the scout had no magical training or prior to Aguefort, she asked questions frequently, circling back to the original topic once she understood enough to carry on the discussion. When Machaira brought up a point Adaine had made about focusing divination magic through an object more than a week ago, clawed hand pressed between her eyes as she tried to recall the elf's exact wording, Adaine felt a surge of thankfulness and affection for her friend.

She wanted so badly to pet her but held back as she had for the past week. Machaira hadn't asked Adaine to touch her again nor had she presented herself in any way that invited it. Adaine knew that the petting was a big emotional trigger for her. Adaine also knew that Machaira didn't want to be treated like a pet and feared offending her friend's pride. The wizard wasn't sure when it was considered acceptable to pet her. She wanted to ask but never seemed able to find the words or time. So instead Adaine got Machaira a plate of tater tots to show her appreciation. Machaira muttered something about _you don't have to waste money on me_, and Adaine rolled her eyes, assuring Machaira that she was happy to do it. After shifting about uncomfortably for a bit the tabaxi murmured a thank you and dug in, tail curling over the wizard's back and around her shoulders, whipping away when Adaine tried to grab it only to curl about her legs.

The high elf left lunch in high spirits, almost skipping as she made her way to the usual table. So far today had been excellent, even by post-Daybreak standards. Fig wanted to spend some time with quality time with Gilear after school, so the party wasn't meeting up until five-thirty for dinner at Krom's followed by a movie night at the Gukgak residence. Adaine intended to spend the afternoon hanging out with Machaira and not get home until it was too late for her parents to be much of a bother. As Adaine plopped into her seat and opened a book, she was confident that nothing could ruin this day.

Her crystal buzzed. Who on earth could be calling her right now? She slipped her crystal out of her bag. The caller ID read Angwyn Abernant. Adaine's heart sank to somewhere about her navel. As a diviner, Adaine should have known better than to tempt fate. What on earth could her father want with her at school? Adaine quickly turned the volume down and answered on the last ring.

"Father?" she whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Angwyn questioned.

"Because I'm at school," she responded. "We're not supposed to be on our crystals right now."

"Then why _are_ you on your crystal right now? Honestly, I would have hoped that you'd take your education more seriously after being denied entrance to Hudol."

"I'm on my crystal because you called me," Adaine snapped back. "I thought there might have been a family emergency." She could feel herself bottling up as her 'home' attitude replaced 'friends' attitude.

"Something of the sort," Angwyn agreed. "A member of the Fallinel Parliament is coming to Elmville to meet with the head of the Council of Solace, and we will be entertaining them at our house for dinner tonight. I wanted to alert you ahead of time so that you could make yourself presentable."

"A little last minute for such an important meeting, isn't it?" Adaine asked with a frown.

"Actually this dinner was pre-arranged some weeks ago," her father corrected her.

"You've known about this event for weeks, and you're only just telling me now?"

"Why would you need to know before now?" Angwyn asked.

"If you had told me sooner, I could have cleared my schedule for the day," Adaine reminded her father in a derisive whisper. "I have plans with my friends that I would not have agreed to had I known about this." She wanted to scream, but years of conditioning prevented her. She also didn't want to get in trouble with Mrs. Dimweather, who would no doubt catch her on her crystal at any moment.

"Are you saying that your plans with those people from Aguefort are more important than dinner with two of the most powerful world political leaders at our house?" Angwyn inquired sharply.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," Adaine protested. "You waited to call me during school at the last possible moment about this huge event that I could have had more time to prepare for, and now I have to cancel on my friends when this whole mess was so easily avoidable."

"Well, if you agree that this is more important than I fail to see the problem." Her father proved himself blind.

"Did you tell Aelwyn yet?" Adaine challenged.

"Hmm, yes we told her once the plans were finalized," her father said. Adaine seethed. "We wanted to be sure that she would be able to work around her class schedules, and then she meets up with some of her school mates now and again."

"Why did you tell her and not me?" Adaine could hear the childish hurt in her voice as she asked.

"Honestly, Adaine, your behavior has been so errant of late that we thought it safer to tell you today," Angwyn sighed. "Which reminds me, this is going to be an important event for the family, and we need everything to go well. I'm sure at some point our guests will ask you about your school work; do try to have something to say that will reflect favorably on us." Every muscle in Adaine's body was rigid, holding her straight as if she was sitting under her father's eye.

"I just helped bring down a deadly extremist who tried to open a hell mouth on school grounds," Adaine reminded him. "I stopped an apocalypse and played a key role in advancing the search for five missing girls."

"Ah, yes, I had almost forgotten. Well, Solace is trying to drag Fallinel into diplomatic negotiations with Highcourt as a result of that, so do try not to bring up that whole ordeal. Perhaps you could say something about your performance in school, if you have anything to boost in that department?" Angwyn's dismissal of the quest that had nearly killed her and all of her friends hit Adaine like a bowling ball. Anger fought to make itself known before her nerves failed. Adaine bitterly swallowed this new disappointment, adding it to the collection of other times she didn't have the gall to stand up to her parents.

"Fine," she relented. "I shall refrain from mentioning this great achievement so that I do not embarrass the family."

"Yes, good," her father confirmed. "Well, alright, get back to your studies. Dinner starts at seven." Angwyn hung up. Adaine slipped her crystal into her bag. _Safer to tell you today_. What did her parents think she would do with time to prepare, sabotage their big night? Did they really trust her that little? Certainly less than Aelwyn, not that she had needed the reminder. And her quest, Adaine's biggest accomplishment, which had nearly killed her, was an inconvenience to them that they would rather keep quiet about. Who was she kidding? Her existence was just an inconvenience to them.

Her chest constricted, breaths coming fast and shallow. The book swam before her eyes. She couldn't make heads or tails of the words in front of her. Adaine suddenly felt smaller in her chair, more vulnerable. Her rapid breathing was too loud in her ears She felt like everyone in the library must be able to hear her. Maybe they heard the whole conversation with her father? Logically she knew that was unlikely, but sound tended to travel in the quiet space. Adaine fixed her gaze on the page in front of her, skin crawling as she imagined the stares of the other students in the library turned on her. Her vision swam, darkening around the edges. Tears forced through her defenses. She couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs. The pressure on her chest reminded Adaine of being trapped under Johnny Spells's car. That's what she was, trapped: trapped in this library of students who would see how lame she was, trapped with a family that didn't want her, and trapped with these panic attacks that would constantly threaten to undermine her.

Adaine eventually managed to force back the panic attack, pushing it into a box somewhere in the back of her mind. She took a few notes from the book, but her heart wasn't in it. As the period drew to a close, Adaine composed herself, wiping her face dry and straightening herself. By the time the warning bell rang, Adaine had removed any trace of her most recent episode. When Machaira made her way up the stairs, Adaine smiled at her, trying to focus on her genuine happiness to see her friend and not the empty, biting sensation in her gut.

Machaira approached Adaine, face creasing slightly with concern. The tabaxi didn't move her facial muscles much to convey emotion. She used her eyes, tail, and ears for most of that, but Adaine had a lot of practice reading her. Machaira locked eyes with Adaine, and the wizard felt compelled to meet her gaze. Those golden eyes searched hers for a moment before understanding relaxed her stare. Machaira's expression softened. The rogue stooped to hug Adaine, keeping a bit more distance than she normally did so that she wasn't boxing Adaine in against the back of the chair. The rogue knelt slightly to the side of the elf, hand resting lightly on her knee.

"Would you like to come outside with me?" She requested gently. "It's such a nice day out. I'd hate to waste it." Adaine found herself mesmerized by Machaira's eyes. She shook her head a bit, nervous without knowing why. "Please? I would really appreciate it." Machaira's voice was impossibly gentle, misting through Adaine's irrational defenses. Everything about her was warm and inviting, like a big fluffy blanket waiting for her. There was no judgement, only concern and affection. Adaine wanted to say yes but wasn't sure how.

Machaira squeezed her knee just a bit before standing. She slipped Adaine's pencil into the crease of her notebook and closed it. She then shut her textbook and slipped both into her bag, every movement slow, relaxed. Adaine made a quiet noise of protest, reaching weakly for her things. She hated how meek she must look.

"We have time to study," Machaira assured her. "But let's go outside. You'll like it." Her voice was soft but firm. The tabaxi slung Adaine's bag over her shoulder and held out her hand. Though every line of her body read as unthreatening, there was a quiet power about the smaller girl, a kind of authority that said, _take your time, but this is happening_. Adaine shivered as she took Machaira's hand and stood, allowing the scout to guide her out of the library. Machaira's grip was gentle. Adaine could have pulled free if she wanted to, but she followed the rogue over to the tree in the back of the school. The wizard slowed as they neared the tree. She didn't want Machaira to think her weak. But she should have known that her friend would see right through her. The scout met her eyes, gaze soft with understanding. She released Adaine and handed her her bag but sat beneath the tree anyway. Machaira looked up at the elf and patted the ground next to her before crossing her arms over her knees.

"You don't need to talk to me about it," she said gently. "But I'm here for you if you want to. Always." Adaine slowly moved to sit next to her as if in a trance, legs almost touching but not quite. Machaira held out a hand, palm up, and the wizard took it. Calloused fingers wrapped over her hand and squeezed. Machaira's stare was sympathetic but not piteous. She smiled a bit, pouring affection into her expression. Adaine's vision blurred. Before she knew it, she was holding onto Machaira with her face buried in the rogue's shoulder yet again, thick, slow tears dripping onto her friend's chest.

The wyvern scales were impervious to water, letting her tears roll freely down Machaira's chest, shining in the sunlight. Strong arms coiled around her, holding Adaine close without crushing her. Machaira tucked her jaw over Adaine's head and rubbed her back slowly, a constant, soothing motion. Adaine told her about the conversation with her father, murmuring thickly as she hid her shame against Machaira's chest. The rogue let her speak without interruption, hand never breaking the rhythm on Adaine's back. The wizard ran through the entire emotional spectrum this way, rising to the height of tension and falling into exhaustion.

When Adaine was finished, Machaira pushed her away. Adaine's eyes widened in a brief moment of panic and confusion as she was pulled from the warm embrace. Machaira lifted her up, crossed her legs, and replaced Adaine in her lap so that she wasn't kneeling in the grass. The tabaxi settled herself more comfortably against the tree and laid Adaine atop of her again. The elf nestled into the refined position, held more securely in Machaira's arms and legs. She sighed, drooping against her friend, and curled placidly into the tabaxi's arms. With her ear to Machaira's collarbone, she could hear the steady heartbeat beneath her. The slow drum hovered at the edge of her hearing, lulling her into stillness.

"I hate your family," Machaira murmured. The rogue spoke more from her chest and throat than she did with her mouth, letting the words rumble up through her body. Adaine could almost hear her voice through her torso before the sound left her lips. Adaine didn't quite laugh but huffed. Machaira rubbed her back a little more firmly, and the elf's eyes fluttered closed at the comforting pressure.

"My parents suck so much," Adaine muttered moodily, picking at a scale on Machaira's jacket. She turned her head to the side, rubbing the bumpy texture against her cheek. Machaira's chest twitched as she chuffed, squeezing her bicep. Adaine relaxed against her friend, eyeing her buttons without interest. "Sometimes I feel like they don't want me around." She admitted. "I just did this huge mission, but they don't even care. No matter what I do, I'll always be second-best to Aelwyn for them."

Machaira tightened her hold on Adaine, twisting down to butt the crown of her skull against Adaine's head. Her tail wrapped around the wizard. The rogue gave her a squeeze, rubbing her back and arms firmly. The tabaxi radiated heat, completely negating the chilly fall wind. Machaira tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Adaine felt hypersensitive to the brush of the scout's finger over her pointed ear. Machaira stroked her hair, and Adaine arched her head into the motion just a bit. It didn't leave her catatonic as it did when she had pet Machaira, but the wizard fully understood why her friend enjoyed this. It was a tender, intimate touch, innocent enough to lack risk. Adaine felt the dull emptiness left behind by her panic attack slowly fill with warmth. She lay boneless on the rogue, eyes closed. It felt good to just let someone take care of her for a little while. Eventually Machaira drew in a deep breath, and Adaine looked up at her, sensing a talk coming. There was no judgement in Machaira's golden gaze, but there was a cautious consideration, each word chosen carefully.

"I'm in no position to give advice on family," Machaira began. Adaine cringed a bit. Gods, for a moment she had forgotten where her friend was coming from. Compared to Machaira's parents, her own family were saints. "I know that it hurts to feel like they don't appreciate you. I'm not close enough to the situation to say what they really think about you one way or the other, but if they make you feel this way, that's a problem regardless. And if you're not comfortable expressing that, then you need to ask yourself why."

"We don't talk about emotions," Adaine admitted after a minute. "My parents aren't exactly emotionally available. They expect me to behave a certain way, think a certain way. They don't, like, ask if I'm okay with anything. They just say, 'this is what you have to do,' and if I don't do it right, they consider it a failure. And if I do do anything right, Aelwyn has already done it better, so it doesn't matter as much. I just checked off a box on a to do list. I've never really felt like I could talk to them." The high elf blinked rapidly, chasing away the moisture building in her eyes. "I'm just kinda there. I… sometimes I don't even think that they want me around." Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Machaira heaved a long sigh, pectorals lifting Adaine with the motion. Her arms tightened a tad around her. Adaine looked up apprehensively, half-formed worries about what her friend might think running about her head. But Machaira's entire person oozed sympathy. The sun glinted her eyes, pupils alight with understanding. There was no scorn or pity. Machaira didn't think less of Adaine for her insecurities. She was just… present, here so that Adaine didn't have to be alone. A few new tears broke free as Adaine realized that this girl she had met only a few short weeks ago loved her more openly than her parents did. The elf curled toward the scout, basking in the warmth and support she offered.

"Your family doesn't know what they're missing," Machaira asserted gently, pressing her muzzle to Adaine's head. "Adaine Abernant, you are a rare and remarkable person, not because you're fearless or perfect – far from it." Adaine's face fell into a deadpan. Machaira's expression didn't waver. "You might get scared and feel overwhelmed, but you always keep moving through it. You fought just as fiercely as everyone else in the party. And you have held your ground for fifteen years against your parents where I ran away." Adaine tried to protest, but Machaira spoke over her, eyes blazing with the strength of conviction.

"Your family has done nothing but hold you back and hurt you, but they haven't been able to stop you. Adaine, you have accomplished more in your first semester of high school than your sister ever has. So what that she has a few years' experience on you? You'll catch up and _surpass_ her, guaranteed. And if your parents can't see you for what you are, it's their loss. You're going to do great things, Adaine, because you know what you want and pursue it. If your parents favor your sister over you, let them. All they can do is slow you down. You don't need their approval to succeed. You have already proven that." Machaira's gaze fairly burned, savage pride and righteous anger boiling over. But there was something less ferocious there as well, a kernel of support and tenderness that bled through the fire.

"We all get frustrated and scared and sad. You've seen just how fucked up I am. But you're better than me, and you're better than you think you are. You're stronger than your fear, even if you don't always feel that way. And it's okay to feel that way sometimes; you're not wrong or bad for feeling overwhelmed and anxious. But those feelings are never going to defeat you – remember that. And I'll be here, however much or little you want me to be. That's a promise."

The last part almost wasn't necessary. Machaira's sincerity was as obvious as Fig's. She meant every word she said, and she poured emotion into her voice and eyes to drive it home. Adaine was a little daunted by her friend's faith in her. As Machaira stroked her hair, Adaine surged up and hugged her, arms going about Machaira's neck, overwhelmed by the care her friend so openly held for her. The tabaxi grunted but returned the embrace, arms going around the wizard's slim waist. There was a quiet power about the rogue, a strength that went deeper than muscles. She felt as if Machaira was offering her that strength, and that Adaine was free to take or leave it at her leisure. But as the elf pressed herself against Machaira, she never wanted to let go of her. She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, time slipping by as Adaine took in the scout's warmth.

"Thank you," Adaine murmured.

"It's nothing," Machaira dismissed quietly.

"It really isn't," Adaine disagreed.

"What else am I for?" Machaira chuckled. Her reply was supposed to be tongue in cheek, but Machaira always meant what she said. Adaine opened her eyes. A white line lay directly in front of her, curving down the back of Machaira's skull, briefly falling out of sight into her mane, and reappearing on her neck. Adaine pulled away, pushing off Machaira's shoulders. The tabaxi immediately relaxed her grip, letting the wizard break free. Adaine stared her down. Machaira began to look confused, maybe a little worried.

"Don't talk like that," Adaine ordered, emotional turmoil hardening.

"Like what?" Machaira edged back from her a bit, arms stiffening.

"Like you don't matter, or you're less important somehow." Adaine could hear the harshness in her voice. She felt it necessary. "You're an incredible person, too, and I hate it when you act like you're somehow worse than the rest of us." Machaira shied away, ears flat, tail sliding off the wizard's waist.

"Okay," she relented, but Adaine knew she was just saying that so the elf would back off. Adaine pursed her lips and took in a deep breath through her nose.

"You're important to me," Adaine tried again more gently. "You're my best friend, and I can't stand it when you say things like that." The tabaxi ducked her head down, eyes fixed on her lap.

"Remember when we all had that talk about blood and gold at Seacaster Manor?" Machaira asked. "I, I don't have any gold to fight for. I fight so that other people can get their gold. I want people to be safe and happy. I especially want that for you and the others. But there's nothing in this world that really matters to me for my own sake. I'm, just, empty inside. I jump from fight to fight, trying to make things just a little bit better for someone else because it's the only way I can make sense of the world. You and the rest of our party, you all have something you care about, a goal to achieve. But I, personally, don't have anything to me. I just… exist. And at the end of the day, you don't need me."

"You _SHOULDN'T_ need me," Machaira snarled fiercely over Adaine's protest. "I'm happy to help when I can, but you would do just fine without me. That's a good thing." Her tone was firm, inviting no discussion. "Eventually you'll all move on to do great things, and I'll be happy for you. Because that's what always happens. I help people, they move on with their lives, and I drift off to find something else to fling myself at. I don't have a real purpose to define me, no gold of my own to pursue, so I'm never needed." Her eyes still blazed, but Adaine no longer enjoyed their light. The wizard drew back a fist and punched Machaira as hard as she could in the jaw. The tabaxi's head barely moved, but her eyes widened, surprised.

"Don't you ever say that," Adaine told her. "You have no idea how much of an impact you've made on my life, let alone on this town. You did just as much as anyone else to complete our quest. You know what, maybe we could have beaten Daybreak without you, but the same could be said for any one of us. The strength of the hero is the party, together. We don't need you in the sense that we can't survive without you. We need you in the sense that you make our lives so much brighter and better for your presence. I need you in my life." Adaine grabbed her friend's shoulders, expression torn between a scowl and a frown.

"You're always talking about how strong I am, but I could never have survived what you went through. I don't stay with my parents because I'm brave – I don't know what I would do if I left. You're not a coward for leaving your family – you took control of your life. You made the decision to go into the unknown and fight for survival on your own terms instead of allowing yourself to be abused. And you still put all of us before yourself. _That's_ what makes you so strong. You're not empty because you care about others. Your gold is love, and I have never known anyone as loving as you are." Machaira looked back at her with scared, uncertain eyes. Adaine took a deep breath and hugged the rogue, holding on tightly when she flinched.

"I want you in my life," she murmured into Machaira's jacket. "You're more important to me than my own sister, and I don't know how I can get you to see that." For a long moment, Machaira didn't hug her in return. Slowly, hesitantly, the tabaxi inched her arms back around Adaine's waist. Her head fell into the crook of Adaine's neck. Tiny tremors ran through her body. Her tail rustled the grass beside them. Adaine could barely hear her friend murmur _thank you_ and _sorry_.

"I'm your friend," the elf whispered back thickly. "I worry about you. And I want you to be happy." Machaira pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"You make me happy," she assured Adaine quietly. The elf smiled at her. She reached out for Machaira's head, and the tabaxi flinched, fear flashing in her eyes. Adaine retracted her hand, summoning the courage needed to pose the question that had been eating at her for a week.

"Why don't you want me to touch you?" She asked cautiously. "I mean, it's your body, but I thought you liked being petted. Did I do something wrong, or – "

"No, gods, no," Machaira cut her off quickly. "I didn't, I don't…" She took a quick, sharp breath. "I want you to touch me. I mean, yes, I like getting petted by you, just, like, it's fine, good, great – " She cut herself off with a groan, head thumping back against the tree, red blossoming under the white fur on her cheeks. "I didn't want to make you do it or pull focus from the other things we do. I don't want to just make everything awkward by asking you to touch me. I don't mind it, no, it's great, I, I just, I didn't want to, to bother you." Machaira groaned again, squeezing her eyes shut. "Just fucking kill me."

"I don't mind," Adaine told her. "I like it." Machaira kept her eyes screwed shut. "It's, I don't know, soothing to pet you. Like, I just feel calm and happy, or, I don't know." Adaine shuffled, suddenly awkward. She was painfully aware of how long she'd been sitting on her friend's lap, but she didn't actually want to get up. Machaira still had her arms around her, so Adaine decided it was okay to stay. "Petting you feels good, okay? I like seeing you happy and relaxed. I feel close to you when I pet you. It's… nice." She finished lamely. Machaira kept her eyes closed, but she wrapped her arms tighter around Adaine's waist, drawing her in.

"It's not a bother," Adaine assured her. "But I won't do it if you don't want me to." Machaira bit her lip. Her four front teeth were perfectly conical, points gleaming ivory in the dappled light.

"I always want you to," she admitted, blush deepening. "I, I like feeling close to you, too. I just didn't want to ask because I thought it might be weird. But, you're free to pet me whenever you want." Machaira kept her voice carefully neutral, but her tail skidded madly about the lawn beside them.

"How about now?" Adaine asked. Her tail flew up and thumped heavily back on the ground.

"Now?" Machaira parroted, facing Adaine properly.

"I mean, if you want," she amended awkwardly. Machaira shivered but nodded, equally awkward. Adaine reached for her slowly. Machaira kept unnaturally still, watching her hand. As Adaine's hand cupped around the back of her ear, the tabaxi shuddered and whimpered. Adaine froze, but Machair bent her head down to provide better access. Adaine slowly began to scratch, and Machaira leaned closer. Adaine sighed, feeling the emotional tension of the past half hour drain away. Machaira's fur was as soft as she remembered. The rogue bent over, allowing Adaine to ruffle her tattered ears. A purr began to build deep in her chest.

Machaira's body dipped toward Adaine, and the wizard reached out to prop her up with a laugh. Adaine pushed Machaira's head up by the cheek, and the tabaxi rubbed her muzzle against Adaine's hand twice, tickling her. The diviner scratched her cheek on impulse, and Machaira pressed her face into the touch, purr rising to ripple over the lawn like summer thunder. Machaira's head bobbed up and down as Adaine scratched her, twisting to encourage Adaine to move toward her neck. The elf happily obliged, delighted by the vibrations under her fingers as the rogue purred. Machaira was rapidly losing the ability to hold herself upright, only bothering to lift her head toward Adaine's hand.

"Machaira, I need you to get up," Adaine giggled. "This is ridiculous." At once the tabaxi wound herself around Adaine, rubbing her muzzle against the wizard's shoulder, arm, back, stomach, legs – whatever she could reach. The high elf was buffeted as the smaller but stronger girl pushed her about, purr swelling until her body vibrated in tune with it, giddy happiness replacing the once somber atmosphere. The action was rough and playful, encouraging Adaine to push back against her. The elf tried, but the scout pressed into her, pushing back against her push back. Laughter and purrs blended wonderfully as Machaira seemed to be everywhere around her at once. Adaine reached out to pet Machaira, and the rogue arched her head up into her palm, nuzzling her and continuing through the motion to circle the elven girl. Her tail slithered along Adaine's back, chest, and face, curving to maintain a hold on her. The wizard laughed and fell back against the tree, half reclining. Machaira curled up in her lap almost before Adaine had settled down, pressing the side of her head into Adaine's stomach.

"Aurroo," Machaira chuffed, looking up at her with wide, yellow eyes. Claws kneaded in her skirt, flexing on but not pricking her legs. Adaine smiled, affection welling up for the silly rogue. She reached down to rub Machaira's ears, easing back onto the tree as the scout's happy purrs ignited soft, warm parts of her subconscious that normally lay buried under anxiety. Adaine dug her fingers into Machaira's mane, vigorously scratching the thick ruff. Machaira closed her eyes, pressing her muzzle into Adaine's torso. Her purrs vibrated up the elf's body. Adaine wanted that moment to last forever. So, of course, the bell rang for the end of school. The wizard reluctantly removed her hand from Machaira's mane. The tabaxi chased after her hand, nosing her.

"Machaira, school is letting out," Adaine reminded her gently. "Do you want people to see you getting petted or hear you purr?" The rogue laid her chin on Adaine's sternum, blinking peacefully up at her with a gaze that very clearly said she didn't care what people thought. The elf reached out to pet her, stroking Machaira from cheek to mane. A purr flared, and Adaine laid a hand over Machaira's back to keep herself from petting the tabaxi any more. Machaira wasn't totally lucid right now, but she'd be embarrassed later if anyone caught her like this. Adaine realized that this so important to the scout partially because she was openly displaying an animalistic side that she could not fully control. There was an element of trust that ran even deeper than the wizard had first thought.

Machaira, still hazy, nuzzled Adaine's chest, butting her skull into Adaine's sternum and twisting to rub her muzzle along Adaine's ribs, a little higher than usual. The elf would normally have never been okay with anyone brushing against her breasts like this, but the action was oddly endearing. Adaine was warm and content, her trust in the tabaxi absolute. If she was honest, there was something nice about the intimacy between them, that she didn't feel threatened, that there wasn't even a need to point out what had happened. The weight of Machaira's head on her chest was comforting. She didn't want to break contact.

But, as Adaine stopped petting her, Machaira eventually sank onto her lap without complaint. Adaine struggled to cross her legs, and the rogue slid off of her. Once Adaine had settled, she tugged the tabaxi toward her by the shoulders. Machaira took the invitation immediately, curling into an impossibly small ball in her lap. She twisted her head upside down, exposing the white fur of her throat, tail coiling around herself. The elf rolled her eyes, grinning hugely despite the weight on her legs. She pulled out a book and cheekily rested it on the body in her lap. Machaira, for her part, lay perfectly still, seemingly asleep as Adaine read off of her. Few people passed by this way as they left school, and fewer still stopped to stare. Adaine shot these gawkers a harsh, demanding look, and they scurried off.

Every few minutes Adaine stroked her friend's head. While she didn't purr quite so powerfully, a thin rumble would rise from Machaira's chest, claws flexing from their sheaths in pleasure. Eventually Adaine set her book down and cupped Machaira's cheek, dragging the nail of her thumb under the scout's chin.

"Hey, you awake?" She whispered.

"Mmmmm, sort of," Machaira murmured. "Didn't want to ruin the moment."

"Are you even remotely comfortable?" Adaine asked, legitimately curious. Machaira loosed a short, lazy growl bordering on a bark.

"You have no idea," she replied, nuzzling Adaine's stomach.

"I have to go soon," Adaine told her, gently petting Machaira anyway.

"I know," she sighed, eyes closing at the contact. Adaine traced a scar with her finger, and Machaira whimpered, trembling. "It's okay." She promised, looking up at the concerned wizard. "It's good, just… intense and a little scary. Lot of memories ingrained there. But I'm okay. With you touching me, that is." Machaira closed her eyes again, whether to hide her embarrassment or enjoy the renewed touches Adaine didn't know. "You going to be okay tonight?"

"Yeah," Adaine sighed. "It starts at seven, so I only have to endure a few hours of everyone ignoring or dismissing me and then it'll be over." Machaira looked up, eyes heavy with sympathy once more. "I'll be okay." Adaine promised. "Thank you, for reaching out, by the way. I know we were kind of all over the place, but I feel a lot better." Machaira rolled over and rested her chin on Adaine's knee, staring up at the wizard seriously.

"I will always be there for you," she reminded Adaine. The elf smiled and rubbed her thumb back and forth over Machaira's cheek, trying to put all of her affection for the tabaxi into her expression.

"I know." Adaine said simply. She could stay a minute longer.


	18. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 4: Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the dynamic shifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I'm trying to make sure these downtime chapters are emotionally compelling since very few of them will be backed by much action. We have a number more to go before the sisterly showdown.
> 
> I want to warn the reader that this story is rated and labeled for a reason. Content will slowly become less "family friendly" (for lack of a better term) as it progresses. Additionally, this story is intended as the first installment of a series, to be continued as more Fantasy High installments are released. Thus, character development will not be as complete by the end of this story as it would in a standalone story because the characters are not meant to finish developing yet. I hadn't said it yet, and I felt that I should at some point.
> 
> As always, FEEDBACK IS EXTREMELY APPRECIATED! Seriously, these are the chapters I will be agonizing over the most. 
> 
> Hope you all have a good new year!

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 4: Crush**

Machaira stumbled after Adaine, trying not to pant. She was too tired to figure out why the high elf had asked to spend their last period outside. They hadn't come to this tree since last week. Adaine took her usual place at the base of the trunk, expression tight with emotion Machaira wasn't alert enough to recognize. Gods, fighting practice had been brutal. She had pushed herself so much harder than she usually did, but aggression hadn't been enough to block out the smells. Shit, the whole school reeked of desire, but out here she was far enough away that it wasn't overpowering. Machaira chose to lie down on her stomach, arms tucked under her and claws digging into the turf. She buried her nose in the grass, inhaling deeply. The school lawn wasn't a quarter as complex as the forests she was used to, but the scents of grass and earth were strong enough to distract her.

"What's wrong with you?" Adaine asked, frowning at her. "You've been acting sorta off for a few days now." Machaira turned to face her, cheek pressed into the ground. It was hard to look her in the eyes. Her fevered brain wanted to look elsewhere, but she told it to fuck off.

"I told you, I'm sick," Machaira rasped, tail tip twitching at the half-lie. She certainly felt sick.

"Then why have you been going to the gym during lunch for the best three days," the elf countered.

"It helps," Machaira insisted, which was true. Adaine sighed.

"Can you please just tell me what's going on?" She pleaded. Machaira bit her lip. She didn't want to say anything. She shouldn't say anything. And she certainly didn't trust herself to say the right thing. But she knew she was going to start talking anyway because it was Adaine and she hated leaving her in the dark.

"Promise not to tell the others?" She asked. Adaine nodded, beginning to look truly concerned. Machaira closed her eyes, pressing her chin flat against the grass.

"I'm… in heat," she muttered quietly.

"What?" Adaine asked.

"I'm in heat," she growled, red rising to her cheeks. Adaine blinked at her.

"Does that, is that what, what I think, what – "

"It's not that unusual," Machaira defended hotly. "Every species that has sex has a heat cycle, even elves. Sex drive rises and falls over the course of the cycle. Some are just more… extreme than others." The wizard frowned.

"So, this is normal?" She clarified. The rogue sighed, screwing her eyes shut.

"It happens once every two months," she reluctantly explained. "For a few days I lose my hunting drive. Instead I, well – "

"Hunt for a good time?" Adaine teased. Machaira glared at her.

"I wanted to take Fabian during fighting practice today, right there on the grass," she told the elf bluntly. Adaine looked at her as if Machaira had announced that she ate babies.

"Fabian? You wanted to fuck Fabian?" She reiterated. "Why, what, I, I had no idea you liked – "

"I don't," Machaira interrupted. "Not in that way at least. But right now, that doesn't fucking matter. He was there, young and fit and strong. I could smell his desire when he was on the bench watching the cheerleaders. I smell it every day, and it never registers as important because it really isn't. But today, I came so close to jumping him." The rogue squeezed her eyes shut. Gods, this was humiliating. She gripped the ground with her thighs, holding her legs apart and applying her muscles for something that wouldn't turn her on.

"I mean, Fabian's handsome," Adaine tried.

"No, Adaine," Machaira snarled, ears flat against her head. "I don't actually want him. I don't like him that way at all. In a day or two he'll just be 'Fabian, that guy in our party' again. But right now, I'm so turned on it's painful. This whole damn school reeks of horny teens, and I could have almost any of them if I tried. I can barely think straight, and the only thing that makes it a little bit better is pushing myself so hard in the gym or on the training field that I'm too tired to bother." Her tail rustled madly across the grass. She was so worked up and frustrated she wanted to burst. "Even that's a double-edged sword. With all those people running and fighting, fifth period is just a bouquet of hormones. I had to bite back a moan every time the teacher corrected my stance."

"I thought your fighting instructor was that ranger woman?" Adaine asked.

"She is." Machaira grunted.

"Oh." The tabaxi didn't look up. She already regretted telling Adaine this much. Gods, she hated herself. Why did this have to happen every two months? It was so much harder to ignore than normal. Not that she'd fought against it much until her scare with the ursine, she reminded herself bitterly. "So…"

"Yes, Adaine, I'm bi," Machaira spelled it out for the high elf. "Girls are hot. Sue me. Right now, when I'm in heat, I want to get fucked, and it's never been harder to push back than here, where I am surrounded by people just dying to screw." Her sex ached. Gods, she hadn't thought about this when she applied to Aguefort. Her hind claws flexed, trembling in her boots as they strained to find a purchase to dig in.

"No, I'm not, I don't want to, to judge, I just…" Adaine stammered off into a wince. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't care that you're bi, honest. I'm fine with that. I just, I'm trying to understand, I guess, what exactly is wrong?" The rogue glowered at her dully.

"You ever been turned on for no real reason?" She growled. "Just, boom, hot and bothered, and all you can think about is getting off, even if it's to something you'd normally never consider." Adaine nodded, going fully scarlet in a matter of seconds. "Okay, that happens to me every two months like clockwork, and it doesn't go away. I stay this way for about three days, but, unlike you, I know when anyone around me is also horny. I can smell the pheromones on everyone who got off before they came to school." Toward the end her growl started to give way to a whine. Machaira flashed her fangs, trying to maintain a fierce face, but she was so tired and aroused and tired of being aroused.

"Okay, yeah, that sounds miserable," Adaine conceded. "So, is that why you've been avoiding us the past few days, because we, you know…" Machaira groaned and hid her face under her arm

"Not Riz or Gorgug," she grumbled. "They're wonderful boys, but they just don't have enough sex appeal. Kristen always smells like she's been fapping these days, but it's a weird, like, corn smell, and no, just, hard no." Adaine snickered. "Fig – gods, she doesn't talk about it like Kristen but she just – that hand washing comment back at Zayn's place was for her." Adaine winced. "I didn't want to know either." Machaira panted, keeping her eyes closed. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being bitchy. You were concerned about me, and this is weird, and I'm sorry – "

"Don't apologize," Adaine chastised. "I mean, it's just a normal part of, like, being you – "

"You can just say it's weird," Machaira told her. "I know, it's – "

"It isn't, though," Adaine cut her off. "I mean, it's like you said, we both have a cycle. Mine is just less inconvenient. I only have my period every six months, so this just isn't a problem for me." They sat in silence for a while. Machaira couldn't see Adaine's face, and she wasn't alert enough to interpret her emotions by scent.

"Thanks," the tabaxi muttered eventually. "I feel like I'm always throwing weird shit at your feet."

"You're the first tabaxi I've ever met," Adaine reminded her. "There's a learning curve here. In a world where three of our friends are hybrids of two species, I'd be a shitty best friend to shame you for who you are." Another pause. "So, um, I know this is, is a little – when you were talking about the party, you didn't, um, mention, what you, you think, about…" Machaira looked up at Adaine. She couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. The elf was blushing from cheeks to throat, fiddling with her fingers and unable to properly meet Machaira's eyes. "… me." The scout groaned quietly. She'd left out the wizard intentionally, hoping to minimize the awkwardness between them. She never would have guessed that Adaine would want to know.

"I mean, no, I get that this isn't, isn't comfortable for you," Adaine rushed. "It's, just, never mind."

"I don't need to be in heat to think you're sexy," Machaira told her. Immediately she wished she could sew her mouth shut. Adaine blinked, eyes wide and face glowing crimson.

"Oh, I, uh, I didn't, you think – "

"You don't need to fish for compliments," Machaira stemmed the tide of babble. "You know you're a knock-out. Just because you're my best friend doesn't mean I don't acknowledge that. Even in those fake uniforms, you're gorgeous." Machaira buried her muzzle in the grass again, trying to block out her friend's scent. While not overtly sexual, it represented warmth and safety and wonderful things that encouraged her to let down her guard. Adaine murmured a stuttered _thank you_ and _just curious_, shifting about as she tried to compose herself.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Machaira begged. "I'll be back to normal soon. I, I just – "

"You're fine," Adaine assured her. "I mean, this is probably pretty hard for you, especially because of you're, um, history…" She winced. "Sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up." Gods, Machaira felt absolutely filthy crouching there at Adaine's feet.

"You're not wrong," the scout admitted. "Every tabaxi feels this way, but not all of them become sluts."

"Other tabaxi can go fuck off," Adaine countered. "You pulled your life together from the shittiest place ever, and you can't beat yourself up forever." She took a breath, calming herself a bit. "Thank you for telling me. That's not something I would ever be able to do. Now that I know, I can cover for you next time, if you want." Machaira looked up at the high elf's face. Adaine was a little uncomfortable but less so than she normally looked when Kristen was talking about masturbating. Her friend smiled, regarding Machaira with the same warmth she always did. The rogue slowly smiled back. The ever-present fear of rejection slunk away, defeated once more by the wizard's acceptance. Machaira offered Adaine a slow blink and a purr, ears rising. The diviner giggled and reached for her ears.

"Maybe not right now," Machaira stopped her, pressing herself flat against the ground.

"Oh," Adaine blushed. "Is that, like – "

"Not foreplay," Machaira said hurriedly, wincing as embarrassment took hold again. "No, it's nothing, nothing like that. I'm just a little, ah, over-sensitive right now."

"Right, no, I get it." Adaine bit her lip. "But, if you're feeling better tomorrow…?"

"I'm all yours," Machaira promised. Adaine laughed and treated Machaira to her small, neat smile that sent warm currents through the rogue's heart. "As much or as little as you want of me."

"I'll take most of you," Adaine decided, true affection glittering under the mask of a cheeky grin. "You can keep the jerky; I want everything else."

"**Honestly, you've earned it." – Porter's response to Fig cutting class**

_It was the little things that really stuck with Machaira._

Someone called her an animal in the hallway, one of the rare insults that survived the desolation of Ragh. Machaira didn't care. Even if it was meant as a slur, there was a sizable chunk of truth to it. But Adaine whirled on the spot and cast Ray of Sickness. As they left, Machaira thanked the wizard but assured her it wasn't necessary. She'd been called far worse.

"They shouldn't be allowed to hurt you," Adaine argued. "They shouldn't even be trying." She wasn't just indignant; Adaine was truly angry that some random person had the gall to insult her. Machaira smiled and laughed, throwing an arm around her friend.

_She didn't need anyone to fight her battles, but it was nice to know that someone was willing to._

Later, the high elf was turning Biz down again.

"Dude, you are good at one thing. That doesn't automatically mean you have appeal to women. If you want women to respect you, you have to respect them first. Don't come on so strong. That's how people, like, get, this." She trailed off and glanced at Machaira towards the end, searching for confirmation that this was the right thing to say. Machaira, once more entranced and intimidated by Adaine's savagery, smiled slightly at her, offering support without input. This was Adaine's fight, and she had neither the right nor the need to interfere. A disheartened Biz soon backed off, and the two girls resumed their walk to lunch.

"You are terrifying," Machaira announced, hands in her jacket pockets. "Seriously, if I was in Biz's position, I would have quit a long time ago." Adaine shoulder bumped her.

"Unlike Biz, you're actually interesting," she corrected Machaira. "I'm still waiting to hear how you killed that wyvern." Machaira laughed and bumped her back.

"How about over coffee at that café down the street after school?" She proposed. "I'll buy."

"Mmmm, no," Adaine rejected. "How we go to that coffee shop with the big plush chairs, I buy the coffee, and you keep me warm during the story?" Machaira tilted her head, considering the offer.

"That seems fair," she agreed slowly. "Feels like I should pay for the coffee though. I mean, I'm getting free coffee, and you have to listen to me talk about how I got a jacket. I think I have the better end of the deal." Adaine rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I like spending time with you," the elf reminded her. Machaira missed her chance for a clever reply as the simplicity of the sentence sank home. Their party was always hanging out but not always with the full ensemble. Adaine could spend her time with any of them and saw the others without Machaira at least once a week. But she sought out quality time with the tabaxi whenever possible anyway.

"Me too," Machaira told her softly, feeling the warmth in her heart manifest on her face. Adaine smiled at her, and the two did not speak to each other for the duration of lunch, engaging instead with the rest of the party. There was nothing else they needed to say.

_Adaine wanted Machaira for nothing more than her presence, and that never failed to amaze her._

Machaira had become attuned to the warning signs. Just as the marks of her quarry leapt out to her on a hunt, the scent and sounds of Adaine's episodes would cut through whatever occupied her mind at the time, demanding her attention. The acrid tang of panic, a shade sourer than normal fear, had grown loathsome to her. The rapid, irregular heartbeat was sharp and jarring in her ears. She stood and moved around to the other side of the table. Adaine started as the rogue claimed the seat next to her. Machaira put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in, briefly resting the crown of her skull against Adaine's temple before pulling away.

This wasn't a particularly powerful attack. Adaine had it more or less under control, swallowing it back before she could truly panic. Machaira didn't want to be too clingy, so she smiled at Adaine and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling her own books across the table. Adaine's fingers lost their death grip on her pencil. Machaira scratched out a note, deliberately not looking as Adaine took several gulping breaths to compose herself. When the high elf had come down from terrified to embarrassed, the tabaxi looked over and smiled again, trying to convey pride in the expression. Adaine smiled back and reached out for her tail. Machaira rolled her eyes but laid her tail across the wizard's lap anyway.

"Are you okay?" Machaira asked. Adaine nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?" The wizard shook her head, fingers nestling in her tail fur. "Okay." Machaira accepted easily, quirking another smile. She turned back to her work without further comment but kept her new seat. Present without pressure.

"It wasn't one thing," Adaine told her after a moment. "Just, you know, the usual." Machaira deliberately placed her pencil in the crease of her notebook and pushed the book a few inches away. She turned to face Adaine, tilting her head and giving the wizard a sympathetic look. The elf often felt ignored or passed over at home. When she spoke to Machaira about her insecurities, the rogue made it clear that her friend had her undivided attention.

"Did it all just kinda crash over you for a moment?" Machaira asked. Adaine nodded, staring at her lap and biting her lip. She didn't offer any more details. Machaira covered her hand and squeezed lightly.

"Tell me about what you're working on," Machaira requested after a moment, scooting closer. "Is this that essay you were talking about on alternate timelines?" As it turned out, yes, it was, and the topic was just as complex and confusing as it felt during the first explanation. But Adaine's eyes lit up, and she started using her hands just a little, which meant she was a lot excited. Machaira loved seeing the normally quiet girl bloom with enthusiasm for something. Adaine was born and trained for this type of magic, and she took the time to master its complexities. Her knowledge wasn't based on factoids but application. She wanted to bring her skills to life in the real world, and when Machaira listened to the wizard, it inspired a bit of love for the subject in herself. Adaine's affinity and zeal for divination was infectious, even though the tabaxi had neither the aptitude nor the interest in pursuing the field.

_Adaine's family had wounded her, but still she was vibrant and passionate, magical in ways that could not be taught._

"You don't have to do this, you know," Machaira murmured through the haze of pleasure, already sinking into Adaine's embrace. The wizard had asked to spend their last period outside, which traditionally meant one of them wanted to have a serious moment without onlookers. But the elf had instead set about scratching her ears almost the moment they sat down. It had been nearly a week since they last did this. Adaine avoided touching Machaira like this in public or during a meet up with the whole party. Sometimes Fig or Adaine would give her head a quick ruffle but never anything that left her so thoroughly disarmed.

"You helped me when I had my panic attacks; I wanted to return the favor." Machaira reached out and grasped her hand with difficulty, vision swimming. She pulled back and looked up at Adaine. The wizard had stopped trying to pet her, confusion entering her gaze.

"I don't need a reward for that," Machaira told her, quiet but firm. "And I don't want to be rewarded."

"No, I know you don't do – help me for, you know…" Adaine stammered. "I just like this, okay." The elf admitted. "I wanted to pet you because I like seeing you happy. I just didn't want to, like, offend you, I guess." She huffed. "You purring is like the best thing ever. I want to hear you purr every day. And your fur is fluffy. I just couldn't think of an excuse, so I went with the panic attack thing, okay?" Machaira blinked, digesting this. She stretched up to butt her skull against Adaine's cheek, pushing the elf back despite her efforts to be gentle.

"You don't need an excuse," she told the diviner. "I like this, too." Gods, they were so fucking awkward sometimes, but the rogue did her best to ignore it, curling against her friend's torso. As Adaine scratched and caressed her head, bliss stole over the tabaxi, drowning out the stimuli of sight and sound. But smell remained, namely the warm, intimate scent of her friend, the one that told Machaira she was safe.

_Adaine wanted Machaira to feel cared for even when nothing in particular was wrong. The emotions behind and spawning from that were powerful, swelling and warming her heart against Elmville's coldest winds._

Machaira brought down a dire wolf. She smoked most of the meat for jerky, but when the birds started to sing their pre-dawn songs she decided to treat herself. The scout carefully wrapped a sizable piece of roasted haunch for her lunch, complete with more than a foot of femur. No one ever served anything that offered her jaws real resistance, and Machaira loved the crunch of a good solid bone. She'd crack the rest of the wolf's skeleton for marrow over the next few days, but the tabaxi wanted a normal meal for once. Machaira almost purred on her way to school, the smell of her hard-won food wafting about her nose. While her lunch wouldn't be hot and dripping with juices by lunch time, it would still be fresh.

Adaine commented on the smell when they met at the bus stop. When Machaira told her that she was treating herself to not-dry meat, the wizard laughed and said it smelled good. The scout immediately offered her some at lunch. The others were always paying for her food. She wanted to share something of hers for once. Come lunch time, Machaira drew her dagger and cut off a slice the moment she sat down. Adaine smiled tolerantly and accepted the gift. Riz and Gorgug also asked for some, and Machaira had wonderful flashbacks to their first day of school.

The tabaxi took a bite for herself, jaws swinging wide to grasp the meat. She growled happily as the femur cracked between her carnassials. For the first time in years Machaira felt safe to satisfy her inner predator in front of others. Eyes closed, Machaira savored the crunch of bone and the rich fatty flavor of marrow.

"Did you just break a tooth?" Kristen asked, eyes wide. "That sounded painful." Machaira shook her head, shearing off another shard of bone.

"Delicious," she corrected.

"What is it?"

"Dire wolf." Kristen gasped, eyes wide. The party stiffened, staring at her. Shock, revulsion, and traces of fear hit her from all sides. Immediately the atmosphere changed from light-hearted interest to judgement and discomfort. Machaira had forgotten that normal for her was bizarre for them. She flattened her ears, tail whapping against the bench legs. _Primitive, ugly, brutish, beast, killer, primitive, Machaira, brutish, ugly, beast_ –

"Oh, cool. Can I have another bite?" Adaine asked, clear voice breaking through the phantom whispers of her subconscious. Machaira started, mumbled an affirmative, and cut off another piece. Adaine practically tossed it into her mouth, staring the rogue in the eyes as she chewed and swallowed before smiling that small, neat smile of hers.

"It's good," she said, perhaps a touch firmer than she normally spoke. "Different from anything I've tried before. Like, not rare but bloody."

"Uh, yeah, flesh-eaters taste bloody no matter how you cook the meat," Machaira explained.

"It's a little weird," Adaine admitted. "But I could get used to it."

"I mean, carnivore meat is kinda heavy," Machaira cautioned. "I'm more accustomed to this type of food. A little is fine, but you might get a stomach ache if you ate a full meal of it." In fact, she knew that anyone who gorged on wolf their first few times eating it would get violently sick, but she didn't want to worry her friends when they had eaten such tiny amounts.

"That's like eating Jawbone," Kristen rebuked. "Or Tracker. Whoa, Machaira, like, this is fucked up. Like, Adaine, you're eating _dog_. How are you not freaking you the fuck out?" The boys and Fig glanced at each other, uncomfortable and unsure whether to step in.

"Because we aren't eating a werewolf or a dog," Adaine countered. "A dire wolf is a separate creature altogether. It's new and different, and I'm willing to try it."

"I mean, I liked it," Gorgug added hesitantly. "I kinda wish you'd told me what it was, though."

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking," Machaira apologized quietly.

"I'll eat more," Riz teased with a grin.

"You will eat anything," Fabian declared. The party snickered. Fig asked for a piece, much to Fabian's surprise and Kristen's horror. The tiefling wasn't a big fan but didn't make a fuss. Kristen stared at them like the whole group was crazy. Despite his claim, Riz didn't ask for any more. Neither the cleric nor Fabian requested to try a bite at all. The boys shifted, not quite looking at Machaira anymore but glancing amongst each other every few seconds. After an awkward pause, new lines of conversation started. Machaira listened in silence, trying to finish her meal quickly and quietly, carefully eating around the bone to avoid any loud cracking. She barely opened her mouth, head tucked down to hide her teeth. The dire wolf didn't taste very good anymore. Shame kept her from meeting anyone's eyes directly. A foot nudged her tail under the table. Adaine was trying to loop her foot under and around the fluffy limb, so the tabaxi flicked out her tail and coiled it about the elf's calf. The wizard flashed her a tiny, supportive smile but did not draw attention to them.

_Adaine made an effort to understand the aspects of Machaira that were alien to her. Everywhere she went, the tabaxi was either a beast or an untouchable. Even her friends sometimes thought her monstrous. But Adaine always tried to accept her, and Machaira had never felt more humbled or lucky than when the high elf reached out to the scout with respect for her disparities._

Their gifts turned out to be magical. Riz's briefcase had infinite storage capacity. Fabian's motorcycle wax would mend the Hangman's injuries at once. Fig's guitar pick provided an extra spell once a day. Kristen's book gave her better insight into spiritual matters. Gorgug's sheath made his axe a lightly magical weapon. Machaira hadn't been able to figure out what her sheath did though. Adaine's gift card was just a gift card, but she had not forgotten about her makeover plan. Fig insisted that they cut class for it to maximize the amount of available time.

"We're bad kids," she argued. "We do what we want. Plus, we're acing every class." Somehow, she managed to convince them with this logic, and the added appeal of ditching school also convinced the boys to tag along. Riz reasoned that if he and Machaira snuck out of class then they were showing initiative. Both rogues successfully slipped away from their mutual third period course on sneak attack, shared a wicked grin, and bumped into Fig in the hall. The tiefling had practically skipped out of her barbarian class but wanted very badly to cast minor illusions of Riz and Machaira before they left. Even though the doppelgangers were constantly fading in and out of sight and would only last a minute, Fig's mischievous glee was rather adorable. The three friends giggled on their way out of school, much too pleased with themselves. When they met up with the others outside, Fig informed them that Gorgug wanted to be a responsible student and stay in class. With that slight downer out of the way, they headed into town.

Adaine had cast Unseen Servant to take notes for her, so she had no qualms whatsoever about ditching. The wizard was nearly giddy, thriving off the rebellious nature of their outing and the support of her party. To see the high elf happy and confident and lively filled Machaira with a warm, playful energy. Adaine's joy was infectious. Her friend was coming into her own; and the woman beginning to emerge from the shy, repressed girl she had first met was more radiant than an aasimar.

The gift card from their mysterious benefactor could only be redeemed at the Gilded Coin, a high-end clothing boutique located in downtown Elmville across the River Marigold from Seacaster Manor. The wedge-shaped building was a multi-story monstrosity reeking of perfumes and incense from across the street. Upon entering the store, the party was confronted with an older half-elf woman surrounded by massive peach and orange hoopskirts. Her grey hair was done up in a tapering mound that reminded Machaira of an onion. Her frilly high collar, broad ribbons, and multiple bows did not inspire much confidence. Machaira also thought that the neckline of her dress was absurdly low for someone of her age and line of work. So it was with little enthusiasm that the party braced themselves as she flounced toward them, followed by a bespectacled imp holding a measuring tape.

"Ooooooohhhhhh," the woman exclaimed, her voice a harsh, high-pitched drawl. Adaine's mouth pulled down and eyebrows flew up in a weird mix of alarm and discomfort. "Welcome to the Gilded Coin! My name is Madame Silvaine. Can I help you look for something?"

"Do you have a men's section or a modest women's section?" Kristen asked quietly. Fabian and Riz giggled. Madame Silvaine stared at Kristen like she was insane.

"Yeah," Fig began.

"We have neither a men's section nor any MODESTY AT ALLL!" The older woman declared, staring upward and flaring her small, thick arms to the side. Adaine's enthusiasm had already drained away.

"I think this is where your parents got you those fake uniforms," Machaira guessed. Adaine smirked.

"What about, uh, what about chain wallets, studded belts…" Fig tried again, faltering at Madame Silvaine's blank expression. "Corsets for no reason?"

"A studded belt…" She repeated, suddenly brightening. "I have a belt made from a tapestry from old Solace!"

"This is gonna be just…" Kristen jabbed a thumb over her shoulder toward the door and shook her head.

"I think this is gonna be…" Fig nodded along with the cleric.

"Is there another – yeah, okay," Adaine agreed, turning back to the older woman. "Oh, I just want to look cool at school."

"You want to look cool?" Madame Silvaine repeated, eyes wide with that recently-electrocuted expression. "Well, I can certainly help you with that. Madame Silvaine isn't behind the times!" Adaine closed her eyes and bit her upper lip, mouth pulling into a thin, tight line.

"We should go somewhere else," Kristen stated. Fig turned to Adaine.

"Is there somewhere else – "

"PLEASE DON'T GO ANYWHERE ELSE!" Madame Silvaine yelled over the bard. "PLEASE DON'T GO ANYWHERE ELSE!"

"I'm so sorry," Adaine told her.

"I'm begging you," the older woman pleaded.

"There was that beach themed clothing store…" Kristen reminded them, gesturing again with her thumb.

"Oh, yes, the beach-themed clothing store," Adaine recalled, brightening.

"Oh, yes, let's go to the beach!" Fig squealed over the wizard.

"Very land-locked," Kristen agreed.

"We can at least get something comfy," Machaira added.

"I-I see that you have a gift card that's only redeemable here," Madame Silvaine rushed. "You would have to spend real money somewhere else."

"Sounds like a bullet I'll bite," Kristen spoke for Adaine. "Let's go."

"Better to spend real money on good clothes than a gift card on something that makes you sad to look at," Machaira tossed in her two cents. Fig snorted. All the girls giggled.

"No, I'm just kidding," Kristen backtracked. "We don't have real money to spend." Machaira shrugged. True enough.

"So," the half-elf took a moment to compose herself, breathing slowly returning to normal. "In your wildest dreams, what would you like to look like?"

"Just like a normal kid," Adaine responded, her voice small and shy. "That's not wearing a school uniform at a school that doesn't have a school uniform." Machaira scooted a step closer to the wizard.

"What of a tiny little sailor?" The older woman gushed instead. Machaira coughed disgustedly.

"No," Fig shot her down.

"I'm a teenager," Adaine reminded her. "I'm not a baby."

"No? Alright." Madame Silvaine shrugged and rubbed her hands together. "Well, something normal, normal."

"Just like a T-shirt and jeans," Adaine clarified, making a _cut off_ motion with one hand. "Maybe like a jean jacket?"

"You would like a T-shirt and jeans and a jean jacket?" Madame Silvaine reiterated skeptically.

"Don't say that like they're foreign words," Adaine chided the ridiculous woman, going from awkward to indignant. "You know what those words mean."

"I – only because of my extremely diligent study of the craft of fashion have I ever heard those words before," Madame Silvaine peacocked. "I think you shall look an absolute fool, deary! But I shall try my best." Adaine blinked slowly, lips turning up into a huge, exasperated smile against her will. Machaira was torn between roasting Madame Silvaine and appreciating how cute Adaine looked. Fig played a quick bass riff and cast charm person on the proprietor. Madame Silvaine stiffened and turned to Fig with a smile and a gasp.

"Get the girl what she wants," Fig ordered. Adaine laughed cheerfully. Machaira smirked, nodded, and gave Fig three hearty claps.

"A T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a jean-jacket, very well," Madame Silvaine repeated calmly. Adaine arched her eyebrows, grinned, and nodded slightly. "Haa!" The woman pranced off to the back of the shop.

"I feel like all of these are going to have lace sewn somewhere onto them," Kristen predicted. Adaine groaned.

"We can take it off," Fig assured the high elf. "I've got a pocket knife. We can just cut it off."

"I've got three daggers," Machaira reminded the tiefling, drawing the eight-inch blade strapped to her left thigh. "Cutting things is never a problem for this group." Fig laughed.

"Shit, I forgot about that," the tiefling giggled, putting away her much smaller switch blade.

"I don't know, Adaine, I think you'd look lovely as a sailor," Fabian offered. Neither boy looked thrilled to be there, but Fabian seemed to be the less uncomfortable of the two. Fig cackled.

"Tiny little sailor boy," the wizard giggled, gesturing to her uniform. "That's basically what I'm already wearing."

"Exactly," Fabian said. "And I think you look just fine now."

"Adaine always looks fine," Machaira told him. Fig's laughter spiked. "But she wants new clothes, so we're getting something fun and not stupid." Adaine blushed at the compliments.

"Well, thank you, but I want to actually just be able – like, I don't want to worry about my skirt flying up in the middle of battle, you know?" She mimed her skirt flying up as she spoke, and as Machaira followed the flair of her hands she couldn't help but notice that Adaine had very nice legs. Not that she hadn't noticed before now, but still. Madame Silvaine returned with a pair of skinny jeans, a dark blue T-shirt adorned with an arcane polygon/rune structure so thinly etched and faded it kept sinking in and out of view, and a wool-lined denim jacket with eight pockets. Adaine zeroed in on the jacket immediately.

"I love pockets," she praised softly as the half-elf approached.

"Oh well, if you love pockets then you'll love this jacket, deary," Madame Silvaine gushed. "Go ahead, cast your spell. Ah, do you have any ability to detect magic? I want you to see the craftsmanship." Adaine's eyes began to glow blue. "This is a jacket of useful things. Put it on." The wizard smiled and put it on.

"Whoa, you look cool," Kristen told her.

"It's inside out," Riz informed her.

"Fuck," Adaine muttered, putting the jacket on correctly.

"The wool is on the inside," Madame Silvaine informed her.

"It could be reversible," Kristen defended. The older woman cleared her throat.

"Now, ah, let's say that you'd like something for your friends or you need something, ah, what's the sort of thing you never have the ability to carry in your pockets? You know, they never give ladies' clothing pockets!"

"Never!" Adaine finally agreed with Madame Silvaine, eyes wide as she lamented the injustice.

"Never!" The half-elf exclaimed. "This hoop skirt has over thirty-five pounds of material goods in it." Machaira frowned. Adaine stopped, blinked, and pulled a weird look, as if she didn't want to know what was in the skirt but also really wanted to know.

"That's… heavy," she managed.

"Yo, start showing us," Fig demanded, re-evaluating older woman.

"I have a full ham!" She withdrew a ham from her skirt and held it aloft. Machaira's jaw dropped.

"Wow!" Kristen exclaimed. Riz held out his hands for the ham and ate the entire thing in a matter of seconds.

"That's a hungry boy with a heaping helping of ham," Madame Silvaine declared with a huge smile.

"You got a cigarette in there?" Fig asked.

"I most certainly do!" Madame Silvaine produced and handed to Fig a three and a half foot long gilded holder with a glittering cigarette on the end.

"Okay, wow," Fig approved, pulling on the massive cigarette.

"This lady rules," Riz decided.

"Now, I must warn you, it's not tobacco."

"What is it?" Fig inquired after several seconds of not getting further information.

"It's Halfling weed mixed with dragon spice." Fig took another slow pull.

"Alright," she breathed. Machaira shuddered as the smoke reached her. Once you got hooked on that stuff, the desire to relapse never completely left you.

"Madame Silvaine knows how to cut loose at the end of the day." The older woman shimmied her shoulders a bit, reminding the tabaxi of the greasers.

"I like it," Fig drawled, head bobbing as the drugs set in.

"You know, I thought you weren't cool, but you're extremely cool," Adaine informed the older woman as Fig offered the cigarette to Kristen.

"All of you wanted to go somewhere else, and this place is fantastic," Fabian chimed in.

"Ancient readiness, young Fabian!" Madame Silvaine exclaimed, pinching his cheeks. Ah, no wonder why Fabian liked this place. His pirate family probably loved it.

"It's good to see you," Fabian replied, smiling around pulled cheek muscles. "How are you?"

"Cool," Kristen droned, grinning as she passed the cigarette back to Fig.

"Good, good, good, good, good," Madame Silvaine gushed. Kristen started coughing horribly. "It's so lovely. Cathilda stopped by for the, uh, for the car."

"Yes, of course, yes, yes, yes," the younger half-elf stuttered.

"Ah, your father's coat, how's it doing?" Madame Silvaine inquired.

"It's fantastic," Fabian praised, confirming Machaira's suspicion. "Oh, your patchwork is incredible."

"Of course, and that coat explodes!" She trilled shrilly. Machaira's hackles rose, and she regarded the frilly dresses around them with new wariness. Adaine's glowing eyes were huge.

"It does, it does," Fabian confirmed cheerily. "Yes."

"It blows right up!" Madame Silvaine squealed and pointed at the sky before turning to Adaine. "Now, reach in there, picture something in your mind that you'd like."

"I am quite hungry, so I guess a sandwich?" Adaine said hesitantly. A prewrapped hoagie popped out of her pocket. Adaine unwrapped the sandwich, smiled at the whey bread, and handed half to Machaira. The tabaxi thanked her but passed the lettuce and tomato and pickle monstrosity to Fig, who happily dug in. Adaine muttered an apology around her giggles, and Machaira waved it aside.

"Cool," Kristen moaned again.

"What of something that couldn't even be in the pocket?" Madame Silvaine proposed. "Say a piping hot cup of tea?" Adaine frown/smiled, passed her sandwich to Riz (immediately devoured), reached into the pocket, and pulled out a full cup of tea on a saucer with two sugar cubes and a tall, thin metal creamer on the side. A spoon handle poked out of the steaming tea. Adaine took a sip, eyes lighting up with delight.

"Hey, Adaine, can I have a rat?" Fig requested. Adaine set down her tea with a suspicious grin and reached for her pocket.

"Unfortunately, the jacket cannot create living things," Madame Silvaine informed her. "Or rather, it can, but they will exist in a terrifying half-life, neither real nor imaginary. Their existence will be a horrifying, excruciating pain, and they will seek to kill themselves as quickly as possible. DON'T PULL A RAT OUT!"

"What about an oyster?" Fig asked. "They don't have a central nervous system, so – "

"The oyster would be fine," Madame Silvaine confirmed. Fig laughed as Adaine handed her the oyster.

"Do you want a knife to shuck it with?" Adaine offered around her grin, reaching toward her jacket. She had apparently forgotten that they all had knives, but pulling a new one out of the jacket would be more fun anyway.

"No, it's a pet," Fig protested.

"A pet oyster?" Adaine fully laughed. "Put it in some water; it's gonna immediately die." She insisted around her laughter. Machaira giggled quietly. She absolutely loved Adaine's quiet little laugh. It was simply too cute.

"Fuck, can I have some water?" Their silly bard only barely managed the question around her cackles. Adaine screwed her face up as she tried to hold in her breathless giggles, flushing a flattering red. The high elf almost dropped the glass of water she withdrew from the coat, and Fig almost fell over taking it.

"Also, doesn't that oyster technically want to kill itself, but it can't because it has no kind of central nervous system with which to do it?" Fabian inquired, hands shifting back and forth as he stumbled over the latter half of the sentence.

"An oyster desires nothing, dear boy," Madame Silvaine corrected Fabian over the gleeful laughter of the other five teens.

"Oh, fantastic," Fabian sighed.

"Cool," Fig puffed on her new fancy cigarette as she admired her new less-fancy 'pet'.

"Well, that would be forty-five gold pieces, if you'd like to make the purchase?"

"Ah, yes, I have that exactly." Adaine handed the card to Madame Silvaine with an excited smile.

"Well, splendid!" The older woman cried, drawing a dagger and slashing the gift card in half. "Ah, another good day of business for the Gilded Coin." The card disappeared into sparkles of light. Madame Silvaine gathered the sparkles in her hands and threw them onto some of the dresses. "Can I help with anything else?"

"You look really cool, Adaine," Kristen ignored the half-elf in favor of the high elf. "You look great."

"Very cool," Fabian confirmed.

"The jacket is a really good look for you," Machaira agreed, tugging it a little tighter around her. The wizard beamed at the rogue before looking around at the others.

"I mean, I guess I'll have to wash this T-shirt a lot, but I'm very excited about it," Adaine admitted with a huge grin.

"Oh yes, I would say do give it a good wash before you wear it," Madame Silvaine advised. "Those clothing should be washed. I wouldn't wear it straight away. I will also say this: um, if you do not wash it, some of the things other people put in there might be in there, so careful." They all stared at her with varying levels of alarm.

"Cool," Kristen said.

"Who owned this before I owned it?" Adaine asked in concern.

"STORE'S CLOSING!" Madame Silvaine threw up her hands and yelled even though it was only about noon. "Farewell, children!" She ushered them outside and closed the door.

"It's the middle of the day," Kristen protested around her snickers. Adaine cast Identify on her jacket.

"Okay, so it used to be the robe of useful things," Adaine told them. "Elven arch-magi created it." She cleared her throat. "I would like to have the object that the last owner of this jacket put in it. She reached into the left breast pocket and withdrew a notecard. "'I'm hiding in the jacket, please don't take me out.'" The wizard read aloud, looking around at the rest of them. Stunned horror and incomprehension circled the party. "Who are you?" She looked inside the pocket. Machaira stretched onto her tiptoes to peek in it as well. Just an empty pocket.

"What?!" Machaira, Adaine, Kristen, Fig, and Riz all said at once. Fabian took a baby step back. Fig cast detect thought on the jacket and instantly collapsed to the ground with a scream, blood pouring from her eyes, nose, and ears. Machaira and Kristen rushed to her side as the tiefling canceled the spell.

"Oh fuck," the bard groaned. "There's… like, millions of people in there."

"What?" Adaine shrieked. "How many people are in this jacket?"

"Don't pull any of them out," Fabian rushed. "Otherwise they'll be trapped in the half-life thing, right?"

"Ask for a note that says the number of how many people are in the jacket," Riz suggested. Adaine grinned and giggled.

"I would like a note saying how many people are hidden in this jacket," she announced. She withdrew a new notecard. "'Mind your own fucking business.'" She read aloud.

"Damn!" Fabian laughed with hearty approval.

"This jacket is so sassy," Adaine declared gleefully.

"Oh my gosh, it looks so good," Kristen told her.

"Thank you," Adaine replied.

"But, like, also you're carrying around, like, a multitude of people," Kristen reminded her.

"Souls," Fabian interjected over the end of Kristen's sentence.

"But they're all taking refuge in there, though," Fig said ponderously.

"I mean, I guess, though – "

"So you're kind of, like, wearing a cool hostel," Fig finished over Adaine.

"Shall we pull them out?" Riz inquired.

"Right?" Kristen sided with the goblin.

"But if I pull them out – " Adaine began.

"You can just put them back in," Kristen reminded her.

"They can go in my bag, if they want," Riz offered.

"How is that any different?" Machaira questioned the human and goblin.

"If living people went in, when they come out, are they still… do they have to live a half-life?" Adaine asked. They all stared at each other in silence. Adaine cast Identify again, eyes glowing with blue spell energy once more.

"So, the jacket can only produce objects worth a 'pittance'," she informed them. "Seems like a weird metric, but, okay. The creatures hiding in the jacket are criminals, refugees, and hideaways living in a city at the center of the extra-dimensional space within the jacket. Nations rise and fall, the people live out their lives, and they have no way of exiting the jacket." Adaine's eyes widened before she smiled nervously. "It's basically just a mind fuck for me to walk around with." Fig stuck her hand into a pocket and hit the bottom of the pocket before fitting her fingers all the way inside.

"Okay," Fig breathed, taking a deep pull on her new cigarette.

"Uh, I would like a chocolate rat," Adaine said. She took out a little chocolate rat and handed it to Fig. "Here you go, here's your rat."

"Well, I already got one pet," Fig said, holding up her oyster in a glass. "So I think I'll just…" She tossed the rat up in the air and tried to catch it in her mouth. Fig managed to just grasp the bottom of the rat in her teeth and had to toss her head back a few times to get it in, much to the group's hilarity.

The next day, Machaira waited for Adaine at the bus stop as she normally did. Adaine had intentionally stayed out late to come home after her parents were asleep, so her parents shouldn't have had time to ridicule her for the new clothes before she had a chance to wear them. When Adaine stepped off the bus, Machaira's brain short-circuited. The wizard had always been pretty, beautiful even, but the difference the new clothes made was astounding.

The jeans conformed almost perfectly to her legs, reconfirming that Adaine did in fact have great legs. Without the dumb school girl skirt, it was easier to appreciate just how long and lean her legs were, making every step she took worth watching. Her T-shirt clung to all the right places to be casual sexy. The glittering design constantly drew focus toward her chest, sensual without revealing a thing. The jacket added that 'cool-girl' flair to round out the look. As Adaine smiled at Machaira and walked over, the tabaxi had to mentally slap herself back to earth.

"What do you think?" Adaine asked, twisting about in her new jacket. Machaira smirked.

"You looked good before, but _hot _damn," Machaira said. Adaine grinned and gave her a little spin, lapping up the attention. Without the thick uniform skirt, it was much easier to appreciate Adaine's pert, firm little butt, held tight by the incredibly flattering jeans. Machaira took a second too long to raise her eyes back up to Adaine's.

"So, you like it?" Adaine asked. The wizard didn't stutter or pull inward as she asked the question. Back straight and head held high, she had to look down at Machaira to talk to her. The elf's eyes shone, bright with simple, child-like joy. Machaira's smirk softened. She reached up to tug on the lapels of Adaine's magic jacket, pulling it open a bit and then pressing them closed over her friend.

"The clothes look good on you," Machaira admitted. "But my favorite part is the look on your face. You seem so much happier and – more confident. It's like seeing Adaine the way she's supposed to be instead of the way your parents wanted you to be. What I like that the most is seeing you comfortable in your own skin. Plus, those jeans really show off your legs." The rogue ruined the moment with a cheeky grin.

Adaine's warm smile split wide, and she embraced Machaira with a laugh. The tabaxi wrapped her arms carefully around Adaine's slim waist, muzzle pressed into the crook of her shoulder. Adaine's scent swept aside all others as a lock of platinum blonde hair fell over her nose. The hug felt better somehow without the layers of fake school girl uniform between them. It was so much easier to feel the person under the clothes, and – oh fuck.

_Adaine was a beautiful young woman. Machaira knew the wizard had trouble seeing it sometimes, but no one else did. Machaira noticed how good she looked too often. She didn't want to think about her friend like this because these weren't friend thoughts. She wanted Adaine to be happy. She wanted to watch as this incredible person blossomed into the world and broke free of the anxiety that hounded her. But she also wanted to kiss those soft lips and feel Adaine's body arching up into her hands. She wanted to taste the salt and desire on the high elf's skin. She wanted to hear the little noises of excitement as she pleasured – NO! She wanted her friend to be happy and successful and confident, and she needed to stop thinking about those legs._

"**Eh, Gorbag's in it to win it!" – Porter to Gorgug when he doesn't skip class with Fig**

"Hey, Machaira, come on in," Jawbone greeted her. "How've you been?"

"Okay, I guess," she muttered, closing the door and taking a seat across from Jawbone. There was a couch in the guidance counselor's office, but Machaira never used it. She pulled her bag onto her lap, reluctantly letting it slide to her feet. The tabaxi kept her legs pressed together, claws slightly retracted as she gripped her knees. Her tail snaked about on the floor for a few seconds before jumping up to coil in her lap. Machaira normally preferred to keep her tail out because she felt unbalanced without it, but her instinct was to make herself smaller when she came to these weekly appointments.

Her friends had suggested she go to Jawbone the day after her meltdown. Machaira agreed because she didn't want to be difficult for them, but she had come to acknowledge that Jawbone was really good at his job. He had a way of reaching her without feeling threatening. Even so, Machaira always felt vulnerable in his office, regardless of how the session proceeded.

"So, have you thought about what we discussed last week?" Jawbone asked, peering at the tabaxi over his spectacles. Machaira bit her lip, hackles bristling a bit.

"I, I actually wanted to talk about something new," she admitted slowly. Jawbone raised his eyebrows.

"Well, hey, nothing wrong with that," he told her. "Go ahead, Machaira." The scout unsheathed her claws half way, ears back.

"I… I think – I _have_ a crush on one of my party members," she said, staring at her feet and hunching her shoulders.

"Is it Adaine?" Machaira looked up so fast she almost got whiplash, lips curled back in a startled hiss. Jawbone peered at her mildly, completely unsurprised. "I was wondering if you'd ever get around to talking about this." He continued mildly. "People can be touchy and close without being romantically involved, but your relationship with Adaine is extremely intimate. I'm more surprised that you brought it up first than that you have these feelings in the first place. It's good that you can recognize how you feel so early."

"I shouldn't feel this way, though," Machaira protested, fur fluffing under her clothes. "And I can't let anyone know, especially not Adaine."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean why not?" She demanded. "I can't have a crush on Adaine!"

"Why not?"

"How many reasons do you want?" Machaira snarled. "I can't have a crush on my teammate. We all work really well together, and I can't risk disrupting that with drama. If we can't work together, we could die in a fight, and I don't want to make things any more awkward in the party. And I _really_ can't have a crush on Adaine. Something this stupid isn't worth losing my best friend over. I, I – it's wrong for me to think about my friend like that."

"How is that wrong?" Jawbone asked.

"BECAUSE I'M SUPPOSED TO BE HER BEST FRIEND, TOO!" Machaira yowled. Jawbone's office was sound proof, so she had no fear of anyone hearing her tantrum. "What kind of friend thinks that way? I'm supposed to support Adaine, not, not…" She dug her claws into her knees, pricking the skin through her jeans. "I can't lose her." Machaira murmured. Jawbone picked up a saucer of tea and took a sip.

"I brewed some coffee before you came in," he said, gesturing to the pot. "Why don't you fix yourself a cup? Stocked up on cream and sugar this morning, too." Machaira took a deep breath, muttered her thanks and walked stiffly toward the coffee maker. Jawbone waited until she sat back down with her nearly overflowing mug, heavily cut with sugar and cream. Machaira took a cautious sip, studying Jawbone over the rim of her drink. There werewolf sucked on his own cup before setting it on the end table beside him.

"First of all, you're not wrong for feeling this way," he told Machaira. "You're a young woman who's attracted to a close friend of the same age; nothing about that is wrong. Second, people fall in love with party members all the time. Most adventurers become romantically involved with a party member at some point in their career. I'd say over eighty percent of the student body dates a party member at least once in their time at the Academy. Statistically, over sixty percent of married adventurers are married to someone else in their party. You fight and work so closely that it's only natural to develop these feelings." He picked his tea cup and took another sip.

"Third, you should be friends with your significant other. I don't see how a relationship can work otherwise. If you and Adaine have a healthy friendship, there's no reason why you can't have a healthy romantic relationship as well, provided that's what you both want."

"But that's just it," Machaira argued. "We don't both want it; this isn't mutual. Adaine is, like, the second-most heterosexual person in our party. She's not attracted to girls, and she's certainly not attracted to scruffy tabaxi girls. Adaine wants a handsome elf-boy to come sweep her off her feet, or at least a really hot demon person. I, uh, probably shouldn't have said that last part." Machaira winced. "But I'm not going to humiliate myself and get rejected over a stupid crush."

"So, you already know that Adaine is attracted to humanoids other than elves," Jawbone concluded. "Has she told you that she isn't attracted to women? Because 'second-most heterosexual person' is an unusual way to phrase that thought."

"No, I mean," Machaira stumbled and huffed. "Fabian is really against the idea of being gay. Not in that he's, like, homophobic or anything, he is just really uncomfortable with people teasing him about that. Fig makes gay jokes about him and Riz all the time for exactly that reason. Adaine isn't against it; she just never thought about having a girlfriend."

"She said those exact words to you?"

"Yes. Well, I said them, and she agreed that was right."

"When did you have this conversation?"

"Second day of school."

"Okay, didn't your friend Kristen consider herself straight around the same time?"

"Kristen never thought about her life until she started at Aguefort," Machaira snarled. "She was so naïve that she didn't know what she wanted. Kristen only ever had these vague ideas her parents put into her head about what was acceptable or not, but the moment a hot girl made a move on her, Kristen completely changed course because she hadn't considered the option open before then."

"You mean, like Adaine has never considered having a girlfriend because no woman ever approached her?" Jawbone emphasized his parallel by pointing from one side of the room to the other with a pen.

"No, Kristen and Adaine are nothing alike," Machaira protested hotly. "Adaine thinks everything through. She knows exactly what she wants and how the world works. Her parents never managed to brainwash her into thinking the way they do. Adaine just doesn't like girls. She's a really good friend, and I want to be a good friend for her, and I just can't have a crush on her."

"How long have you felt this way?"

"Since… I, I think since a few weeks ago, but I didn't realize it until last week when I saw how good Adaine looked in her new clothes." Machaira admitted. "I had always thought she was pretty, but it never really registered that way. Adaine, she, just, she tries so hard to make me feel included and cared for. We were always close, but I didn't, like, like-like her. And then we got closer, and now I don't know what to do. But I can't let this get between us."

"So, since the time when Adaine told you that she had never considered a girlfriend, your relationship has become intimate to the point that you are afraid to damage it?" Jawbone summarized. Machaira didn't have an immediate response. "Look, I can't tell you what Adaine feels for you, but I can tell you that if you are as close friends as you think you are, she won't abandon you because you like her. It might be awkward for a while, but anyone can see that Adaine genuinely cares for your well-being. And it has become obvious to me that there is really nothing you care about more than her. I don't think talking to her about these feelings would ruin your friendship. And there's a chance that she feels the same about you, but you can't know that until you talk to her first."

"There's no way she feels the same," Machaira shot down the idea instantly. "Why would she? I already give Adaine everything I could as a girlfriend, and she still has her options open for someone else to come in and give her a real relationship, someone who doesn't come with a fuck tonne of emotional baggage. She's, she's just – I love watching her become more confident and self-assured and everything, but eventually she's going to realize that she… she doesn't need me for anything. Why would she even want me?" Machaira finished in a whisper, tucking her fangs under her collar. Her scars prickled as the air conditioning blew across her head. "It's just a stupid crush." She repeated under her breath.

"You can't talk about yourself this way, Machaira." Jawbone told her. "You're a bright, caring young woman and a gifted rogue. You can't keep putting yourself down like that. Your friends certainly want you around. Isn't that why they asked you to come see me, right, because they were worried about you?"

"Isn't that one more reason why I shouldn't be acting on this?" Machaira countered. "How can I be a good friend, let alone a good girlfriend, if I don't respect myself?"

"That's true," Jawbone admitted. "You need to respect yourself in order to respect others. But Adaine seems to think you're a good friend. You call her your best friend. You also seem to spend a lot of time with her one-on-one. Why would she do that if she doesn't want you around?"

"Because she pities me," Machaira grumbled bitterly.

"I don't believe that," Jawbone denied calmly. "And I don't think you do, either. When you first came in, you said you had something new to talk about. But the problem here is not your new feelings, it's your old ones. Last time, you admitted that you were having problems with how you saw yourself, right? We talked about not letting what other people said about you in the past define you right now? I think that's the real problem here."

"Machaira, there's two ways most students view their early relationships. The first way is that they treat a casual relationship more seriously than it really is. The second way is that they trivialize serious, intense emotional bonds because they're afraid of rejection. And you have degraded your feelings as a 'stupid crush' so many times since you walked in, I think you're trying to convince yourself more than me. It's perfectly natural to be afraid of your first real, healthy, intimate relationship, especially coming from your history of less than healthy – "

"Fucking," Machaira interrupted savagely. "You can just say it. I haven't had anything real before."

"At least you're acknowledging that the emotions you have now are real," Jawbone told her. Machaira hissed, and her tail sprang from her lap to whip about the chair legs. The werewolf ignored this. "A few years back, I was running dragon spice with this Halfling who wasn't lucky, the only Halfling I'd ever heard of who wasn't lucky. And he would spend all of his money paying prostitutes to choke him and step on his balls because he had been told that was what he deserved because he was an unlucky Halfling who threw firebombs into temples and chronically shit in his pants. And he was always saying that he was shit and felt like shit and that he couldn't get off unless someone else choked him and called him trash and stepped on his balls and how it wasn't the same when he tried to do it himself. But I stayed with him and I killed for him right up until the day he was choked to death by an overweight half-orc transvestite because he stood by me when I needed him. And the bond we shared went deeper than mangled testicles and bad luck and smuggling dragon spice over the border by rolling it into five-pound balls and shoving those balls up our assholes." Jawbone took a sip of tea. "His fears and his fetishes and his weakness did not define him, and I appreciated the good parts of that Halfling alongside the bad even if he couldn't. But, ultimately, we can't let our fears control our behavior or it'll kill us."

Sometimes Machaira truly did not have a response to the things Jawbone told her. She chugged her coffee, taking at least a sliver of comfort from the caffeine and sugar. The rogue was conscious of how tightly she had to press her lips together to keep the coffee from spilling out the side of her jaws.

"I don't want to lose her," the tabaxi repeated hollowly. "Now that I have Adaine in my life, I… I don't want to go back to living without her. I want her to be happy, even if it's not with me, so long as I don't lose my best friend." Machaira squeezed her eyes closed against the hot prickles pushing up against her lids. "I can't lose her. Not over a stupid crush."


	19. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 5: Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Families are complicated. But they always have your back, especially when your family is also your adventuring party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO, SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE!
> 
> I wrote and rewrote this chapter a half dozen times. This is definitely some of the darkest content in the story, and I hesitated to post it. I swear, things will be lighter and fluffier from here on out.
> 
> As always, reviews are more than welcomed, including criticisms. Seriously, you guys are the best

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 5: Family**

Machaira tugged at her vest, making sure it was straight and snug over her body before slipping on her jacket. She paused to listen for anyone who might be home before exiting the bathroom, steam billowing out ahead of her. Even though Sklonda gave her permission to do laundry and shower at Strongtower, Machaira couldn't shake a sense of wariness, aka tactical paranoia, that came with undressing in a building with other people in it. Even taking her jacket off felt dangerous somehow. She also hadn't quite resolved the issue of washing her three sets of clothes so to have clean clothes to wear when she came out of the shower and washing her fur-covered towels from after the shower. Currently, clean clothes took her priority.

The tabaxi started on the dishes in the sink. Sklonda worked hard and never complained. She was tolerant of her son's adventuring party, welcoming to Machaira, and an excellent mother to Riz. The rogue wasn't comfortable taking the Gukgak's hospitality without doing something in return, even though she knew that was what Sklonda had intended. So she'd taken to doing little chores around the apartment if she was there when Sklonda wasn't home. The goblin didn't want Machaira to help, but the scout knew she liked not having chores waiting for her when she walked through the door. Machaira was drying her hands when the patter of tiny feet announced Riz's return from A.V. club a moment before his key rattled in the lock.

"Oh, hey, Machaira," the inquisitor welcomed her easily.

"Hi, Riz," she greeted over her shoulder. The first few times Machaira texted to ask if she could come over for this purpose had been exquisitely awkward. But by now her presence had become accepted, just another part of their daily lives. Riz made his usual swipe at her tail, and Machaira took her standard retaliatory kick. Both missed as they always did, and Riz hopped up onto the human-sized chair and spread out his assortment of loose sheets of notes from that day. Machaira immediately gathered his notes against the goblin's protest, stacked them neatly, and set them on the chair next to her.

"Do you have to do that now?" Riz asked. "I was just about to finish my essay on assassination."

"I have to wait until you take your notes out so I can sweep up the dirt and glitter that always falls off them," she countered, spraying and wiping down the table. "Why are your notes always dirty? And where is the glitter coming from? I know you don't use glitter, but it's on all of your stuff."

"You don't have to clean at all," Riz argued as Machaira handed him back his notes. "My mom keeps telling you that."

"And I always say, 'okay,' but guess what, I'm still going to do it," Machaira informed him. "So there." Riz snickered at her flawless logic, and Machaira took a playful swipe at him. Riz ducked even though she was nowhere near hitting him, and the two returned to their work.

"As long as you're cleaning, how about you clean up my room?" Riz half asked and half teased. Machaira carefully put down her rag and turned on Riz, leveling a predatory stare.

"You remember our deal?" She asked, lowering her voice. "I'll clean your room, but you have to pick up the clothes and vomit first."

"There's no vomit in my room," Riz defended.

"Frequently, there is," she rebuked. "Even if you forget about it, I can still smell it."

"I vomit when I get excited," Riz protested. "It's not intentional."

"That is totally unrelated to the problem at hand," Machaira bluntly shot down. "Which is that I will not clean up your vomit. Also, having vomit in your room at all is a problem." Riz flushed a darker green and chuckled a little. Machaira's mouth pulled into a grin. "Seriously, Riz, you have to get this whole vomit thing under control before we find Penny. You'd hate to vomit all over her on your first date."

"Penny is my babysitter!" Riz refuted much too loudly. "She's just a friend."

"Then why is her picture in your room?" Machaira teased, flicking her tail at Riz's chair around the table.

"She's on the board of missing girls," Riz objected. "There's other girls on there, too, and I've never even met them."

"Mm, I meant the one next to your bed," she nearly purred.

"I don't have a lot of space in my room," Riz objected, face a dark pine-needle color.

"'Oh, Penny, I'm so glad you're alright – blech!'" Machaira mimed the goblin vomiting on the Halfling. "Don't worry, Penny, it's a good vomit." Riz glared at her.

"You're the worst," he declared empirically. The other rogue smirked at him.

"Look at it this way," she tried in a more conciliatory tone. "If you do vomit on her, you can offer to help clean her up and cop a feel." Machaira grinned evilly and winked at the speechless goblin before turning back to the kitchen even though she had finished the dishes. She was not so naïve that she didn't expect retaliation for that one, and she'd rather bait Riz into doing it now then let him wait to do it later. Still, she didn't expect him to pull her tail as fast or hard as he did.

A burst of pain flared up her spine, and Machaira whirled on Riz, teeth bared in a hiss. She darted around the table at the goblin, who fled under the furniture in turn. Machaira lashed out, but Riz made a nimble escape at the last second and slipped free, toes brushing against her fingers as she seized thin air. Machaira chuffed and growled as she chased her quarry about the apartment, laughter bubbling up from both of them as they played. Let tanks bash each other over the head four dozen times and magic users talk at each other from across the room: rogue fights were always the best. Machaira and Riz zipped about the apartment, weaving under, over, and around furniture without disturbing a thing. As an inquisitive goblin, Riz could predict her movements fairly well and had a slight edge on escaping an attempted attack, but the tabaxi scout had an advantage in speed and grappling.

In the end, it came down to luck. Eventually, Riz was a hair to slow in dodging, and Machaira flashed out a hand, cuffing him about the shins. Riz tripped, and Machaira rolled him over in midair and pinned him, clawed hands on his arms and a knee on his stomach.

"Oof," Riz gasped.

"R-r-r-r-rrhhff," Machaira chuffed, smiling down at the goblin. Though she had caught him, they both knew their chase had taken much, much too long to be considered a real victory for her. But Machaira knew better than to admit that, and Riz knew better than to comment on it. So the scout freed her captive and shook out her mane while Riz laughed good-naturedly and went to clean up anything in his room she would deem untouchable.

"You know, you don't have to clean my room," Riz called through the doorway. "I'm small, but I'm not a baby."

"I shouldn't clean your room," Machaira agreed, walking away from the plaster partition in the living room that provided Riz his privacy. "But you forget, and then your mom has to clean it, and she _really_ shouldn't have to do that."

"I can clean it by myself," Riz objected.

"Are you going to?" Machaira asked, tugging her socks down her feet a bit so that her claws wouldn't poke holes in them.

"Well, I was going to do the clothes thing now – "

"And vomit," she added, pulling out a spray bottle of glass cleaner from under the sink.

"And then finish my essay on the uses of Drow Poison." Riz finished.

"Will you remember to finish cleaning your room?" Machaira asked, pausing as she reached for a fresh rag. Silence. "I'll take care of it." She chuckled. Machaira very carefully approached a framed picture of a male goblin on the wall by the door, presumably Riz's dad. When Sklonda first saw that Machaira had polished this picture, she'd come up to the tabaxi, thanked her, and given her a squeeze on the shoulder. Apparently Machaira's parental issues ran deeper than she thought because she now took every chance to polish the pictures in the apartment, a delicate job that always made her much more nervous than it should have.

She had just finished the picture frames and bathroom mirror when Riz booted her out to use the facilities. Machaira went into his room to see that Riz had indeed picked up his clothes and there was no vomit to be found. She was very pleased to see that the other rogue had organized the crap on his desk as well. Machaira wiped down the goblin's window and made his bed without complaint. She'd started this as a way to manipulate Riz into doing the chore himself. The first time Machaira had taken Sklonda's offer to use their shower, she'd overheard the mother and son arguing about cleaning Riz's room. At the time, she hadn't known if this was a serious disagreement and had hidden in the bathroom for an extra twenty minutes to avoid getting caught between them. The quaking terror that had seized her at the idea of a family dispute had been a depressing reminder of how badly she needed Jawbone's psychotherapy.

After realizing that they had this squabble multiple times a week and nothing ever became of it, Machaira came up with her own plan. Riz was a responsible young man who cared about his friends; he just never considered cleaning his room important. Neither goblin felt that the scout owed them these little chores she did, apparently not realizing how massive their favor was for her. Riz couldn't stop Machaira from cleaning his room and feared her snarling temper if she found anything truly disgusting in there. Thus, they made their deal, and Riz felt guilty if she ever had more than four minutes of work in his room. So he steadily began to do more of it himself, saving both her and Sklonda the trouble and allowing Machaira to avoid scary family quarrels between the Gukgaks. Machaira closed the door to Riz's room behind her and went back into the bathroom for her fur shampoo and toothbrush. She packed both into her rucksack, struggling to pull the strings closed around her laundry.

"My mom won't be home until tomorrow morning, but she said you could stay here tonight," Riz told Machaira as she placed her bag by the door.

"I appreciate that, but I need to get my clothes home," Machaira declined, replacing the glass cleaner under the sink.

"Or you could keep them here," Riz suggested quietly. Machaira stood slowly and placed her hands on the counter, palms down. "I know you're sleeping on the couch for now, but we could get something set up – "

"Riz, I appreciate that," she interrupted gently. "More than I can say. But you know that I can't stay here."

"My mom would be okay with it," Riz argued. "She's been talking about – "

"Riz," Machaira cut him off again. "Your mom is a good person with a big heart. But raising a kid costs a lot of time and gold, and I'm not putting that strain on her. I know my way of life might seem harsh, but it's normal for me. And we'd be at each other's throats if I lived here full time." Riz pulled his mouth into a thin line.

"Neither of us want you to walk out that door and never come back," Riz told her quietly. "I like having a sister." He stared at the table, blushing just a little, and Machaira glanced at the photo of the goblin on the wall. She walked around the table to Riz and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, big sis Machaira isn't going anywhere anytime soon." An impossible promise to guarantee, she knew, but one she hoped she could keep anyway. The tabaxi smiled down at Riz and ruffled his hair through that dumb floppy jockey hat he insisted was cool. Riz shook her off and mock glared at her. Machaira cuffed him lightly over the back of the head and ruffled his cap again just to prove that she could. The two rogues settled into comfortable silence, Riz working on his homework and Machaira polishing her weapons.

"It's not enough," Riz said after a few minutes.

"You only need three pages," Machaira reminded him absently, dutifully scrubbing at a tiny speck of grit on the edge of a dagger. "Drow poison is boring, but we can use it for basically anything. Talk up all the ideas that aren't assassination, and he'll give you a good grade."

"I wasn't talking about the essay," Riz countered. "I'm taking about the case, about Penny. It's been five weeks, and nothing's changed. We should be doing something." Machaira set her dagger on the table and looked over at Riz.

"What exactly should we do?" She asked.

"I don't know," Riz admitted. "I keep going over my board, but… I think I've lost my edge. I feel like there's something right in front of us that I'm missing, but I don't know what it is." Machaira sighed slowly. Sklonda would not want her to encourage this, but Machaira knew where her loyalties lay.

"Then talk me through the case," she told him. "What's the missing piece?"

"The girls," Riz answered immediately. "We know everything except where the girls are and why they were kidnapped in the first place. Mom thinks that they're in Highcourt, which makes sense, but we don't know why Daybreak wanted them at all."

"Okay, now is that a question worth answering?" Machaira asked. "Does it matter why Daybreak kidnapped them if we know for a fact that he was behind the kidnappings?" The goblin had to think about that one.

"Yes," he decided. "The kidnappings don't fit in with the rest of the case. Everything else sorta flows together. It makes a weird kind of sense. But we don't know why Daybreak told Johnny to trap girls in palimpsests or what he wanted with these six girls in particular."

"Okay, so where would you start looking for answers?" Machaira inquired.

"I don't know," Riz admitted. "We found pretty much everything at Daybreak's place. We think the palimpsests are in Highcourt. But until we know why he took them, we don't know where in Highcourt the palimpsests are or if this could happen again." Riz heaved a frustrated sigh. Machaira chewed her lip. He was right. The palimpsests didn't fit in with the rest of this. But she didn't know what the solution was. Riz was their detective. Her abilities as a rogue extended about as far as 'stab it'.

"Well, if you don't know what we're supposed to be looking into, then maybe there isn't anything for us to be doing," Machaira stumbled over the sentence a bit. Riz stared at her like she was crazy. "Look, the hardest part of hunting isn't actually killing your prey: it's having the patience to stalk it properly. And sometimes you have to abandon a hunt because it's just not going to be possible to take down your target at that point in time. I know you might not want to hear this, but we're playing a waiting game."

"I feel like we've had this conversation before," Riz cut in.

"We have," Machaira confirmed. "And nothing has changed. We've exhausted all current sources of intel. Unless you can think of something new, I really don't see what we can do besides let your mom do her job and wait." Riz frowned, unhappy with her input.

"Maybe you're right," he grumbled. "But I'm not going to stop trying to figure this out. I can't give up."

"If you find a new lead, we'll be there to help you," Machaira told him. "I promise."

_I shouldn't have promised Riz shit_, Machaira thought to herself the next night. They were all crouched behind some boxes in a docking area on the shore of the river. Riz had found a very loose connection between a local gang and Johnny Spells. The tiefling greaser had bought crystals and turned them into palimpsests for the Harvestmen, but he had bought the crystals one at a time and always the same make and model. Lots of people bought this variety of crystals, but only one other buyer purchased them individually. That buyer happened to be Saraih Sootfang, the flind leader of a gang of gnolls that had seen an upswing in activity since Johnny Spells bit the dust.

Riz and the others were excited to get back on the case. Adaine and Gorgug wished that the case had stayed out of their hands, but even they seemed eager to help find the girls. They were all restless for a challenge, and the other freshmen just weren't in their league. But Machaira was the only outlander in the party, and she knew firsthand how savage a gnoll warband could be. And yes, generalizing any race was a dangerous mindset to fall into, but patterns within cultures came about for a reason. And gnolls all shared a vital common experience.

Riz had wanted to sneak around by himself and scout out the old warehouse Saraih's gang was camped out in, a plan Machaira had firmly shot down. She insisted on accompanying the goblin in surveying the warehouse. Where Riz saw only two guards, Machaira recognized them as undead witherlings. Where Riz saw vaguely demonic iconography on Saraih's armor, Machaira knew the symbols denoted her as a cleric to Yeenoghu. As they made their way back to the others, Machaira rubbed at her bracelet. Why did it have to be gnolls? Her friends did not share her misgivings. With two guards and six gnolls inside, excluding Saraih, the gnolls had only a slight number advantage. Since Johnny Spells and his tieflings had been able to bully them into submission, Fabian reasoned that they would be easier to fight.

The plan was simple: Fig lies her way in, the rogues jump out of hiding when everyone has their backs turned, the rest of them rush the front door during the confusion, and they leave Saraih mostly in one piece to question her about the crystals. Machaira wanted to argue against it. She didn't want to start a fight with most of the party separated and surrounded. If she was honest, the tabaxi wanted to kill Saraih with the rest of her gang and search their bodies for clues once her friends were safe. But Machaira knew Riz and Adaine were smarter than she was, and the scout was worried that her idea had little behind it but bad history and bloodlust. So, she kept her silence and let the planners do their thing, only commenting that the guards were undead and probably couldn't be charmed or reasoned with.

The guards dropped from the combined fire of the seven of them, and Fig moved in with a confidence no one else could have possibly managed. As Machaira slunk through a second-story window, she expected something to go wrong. She did not expect Saraih to order Fig's ritual murder before their bard could get a word in edgewise, nor did she expect the hidden shoosuva and gnoll barbarian. Gorgug took on the shoosuva, but that left the rest of them to deal with the gnolls, who were adamant about killing Kristen first. Their healer had her work cut out for her trying to run from gnolls and keep the party in fighting shape. Adaine incapacitated a warlock for Riz to finish off, but Fabian really carried the battle, riding around the warehouse on the Hangman and dropping three gnolls before being dismounted by the gnoll barbarian. The enemy barbarian staggered as Adaine, Fig, Riz, and Fabian hit it at once, kept alive through sheer tenacity and a steady supply of healing magic from Saraih.

"You're not my dad!" Gorgug bellowed as he beheaded the shoosuva, hoodie hanging off his chest in tatters. The remaining gnolls howled in rage. Saraih rushed Gorgug and swung her flail into his chest. Blood spurted from the wound, and the flail flared with sickly red energy.

"Share in the blessing of Yeenoghu," the flind cried. "Become one with us!" Gorgug staggered back, hands clasped to his wound. He looked up, eyes red with barbarian rage, and yelled. Saraih grinned as the half-orc ran past her toward Fabian.

"What are you doing?" Fabian shouted. Gorgug swung his ax into Fabian, blade cleaving deep into the fighter's ribs. A second cleaved his shoulder. Fabian cried out, stumbling back and barely evading the next reckless attack. "Gorgug, it's me, Fabian Aramais Seacaster! Son of Bill Seacaster? Your friend?" Gorgug roared, and the half-elf fled, sprinting through the warehouse with the half-orc in hot pursuit. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Saraih's flail has a Detect Thoughts spell attached to it," Adaine yelled, eyes glowing blue with a Detect Magic spell. "Somehow she used it to bewitch Gorgug."

"How do you drive someone crazy with a Detect Thoughts spell?" Riz demanded, running between Gorgug and Fabian to get the berserker's attention before scrambling up a chain to a mostly destroyed platform.

"I don't know," Adaine responded, yelping when an arrow stuck in the ground right next to her. Fig struck a power chord, knocking the archer off her feet. "That's why I said somehow." Machaira finished off a gnoll Riz and Fig had left barely alive, meeting the hate-filled gaze as its last breath became a blood-choked gurgle. She had a pretty good idea what Saraih had done. Gorgug tried to follow Riz, but the chain snapped under his greater weight. The half-orc pounded on the wall, shaking Riz's platform. The goblin tried to shoot a gnoll from his position but was forced to lie flat as it returned fire on the exposed rogue. Only three gnolls remained, but three of their party were effectively out of combat. Fig and Kristen were almost out of spell slots, and the gnoll archer and barbarian were still going strong.

"Join in our hunt, elf," Saraih yelled, charging Adaine. "Hear the voice of Yeenoghu!" Machaira immediately changed course and flung herself at Adaine. The other girl was knocked back onto her butt, staring up at the tabaxi with wide eyes. The scout dodged out of the way of the worst of the blow, but Saraih's flail still tore a chunk of flesh from her back. The tabaxi yowled at the burst of pain, staggering forward a step. She could still see Adaine in front of her and the warehouse around her, but new thoughts that were not her own filled Machaira's head.

_Feel our hunger_, Saraih's voice urged her. _Be filled with the presence of our lord_. The cleric's thoughts were brushed aside as a greater presence rose beneath her own, a swirling vortex of hunger and rage and fear, preying on Machaira's darkest desires and most intimate terrors. All gnolls were born with a direct connection to their creator, the demon lord Yeenoghu. Gnolls were responsible for some of the worst slaughters in history because their thoughts were never their own. The entire race served one master and his chaotic need for carnage. But Yeenoghu was not so closed-minded as to reject beings not of his own creation. In opening her mind to her enemies, Saraih exposed them to the voice of her patron; and he was eager to take Machaira into his ranks.

The demon sympathized with Machaira's love of the hunt, with her feeling of abuse and isolation, with her need to be strong and fierce. He cried out at her weary acceptance of always being a mere beast to other humanoids, at her shame for the deformities that would forever make her undesirable, whether to Adaine or anyone else. Yeenoghu wanted to accept her, wanted to free her from her struggles and her pain. They were not so different. She could hunt with his pack and never be alone again, never truly experience confusion or inferiority. All living creatures would fear her presence. His hunger was her hunger; he ate when she ate; he killed when she killed. All who served Yeenoghu would share in her experience, and she would not know true pain or loneliness again.

Machaira curled her lip and growled, standing straight despite the screaming pain in her back. She was a servant of Bast. She already hunted for her goddess. She had suffered and bled and cried for herself and others her whole life without profit, and she would continue to do so. Machaira knew Yeenoghu offered mindless slaughter as a distraction from her problems, but Bast had shown her the power of sacrifice, loving for the sake of something's goodness and not its benefits. Let gnolls and other monsters surrender their identities for freedom from responsibility. Machaira chose to nurture the world with her blood. If that meant she spent her life as a living definition of her name, then so be it. Her life and death would mean something, given so that others could have what she did not. The Cat of Ra had shown her the path of true strength, and it lay in giving, not taking.

Machaira snarled as she ripped free from Saraih's spell, and the gnoll shrieked with fury. Pain, exhaustion, and fear hit her like a woolly mammoth as the presence of Yeenoghu left her. Her bracelet burned against her wrist. Adaine sat on the ground before her, gaping mouth flapping a bit as she stared at Machaira. The scout would have to apologize for shoving and scaring her later, for she had business to take care of now. The tabaxi's saber was but a flicker of light as she severed the chain of Saraih's flail. The cleric howled and jumped her, rolling Machaira to the ground. The tabaxi growled and rolled with her as the half-breeds clawed and grappled.

Saraih had significantly better armor. The flind was imbued with the power of a demon lord, did not fear injury, and was at least twice her size. But Machaira had a rogue's training in dealing the maximum possible damage with a single blow, had much more experience with unarmed combat, and had six people to fight for. Saraih pinned her down, and Machaira's claws scraped harmlessly against her armor. The flind bit down on her shoulder, crushing the rogue's scapula. Machaira yowled and heaved, rolling them fifteen feet across the floor until she could bring her own fangs to bear, stabbing deep into the gnoll's shoulder, spearing through muscle to the bone beneath. Saraih growled and struck her across the head. Blood filled Machaira's vision for a moment as she slipped out from under the larger woman, flipping their position to pin the cleric prone.

With this advantage, the scout's claws found their mark, scraping down Saraih's skull through her left eye. The cleric howled and bit Machaira's left arm, breaking bone once more. The rogue snarled contemptuously and lunged for Saraih's head. Her saber teeth pierced the flind's muzzle, but Saraih managed to grasp Machaira's lower jaw between her own. Two pairs of yellow eyes locked as Tabaxi and Gnoll bit down. Pain exploded along Machaira's lower jaw, but she kept her grip and twisted, severing muscle and bone to tear Saraih's muzzle off her skull. The two women yelled as one, but Machaira kept Saraih pinned. Blood flowed from her mangled jaw in odd places, dripping onto the savaged visage of the gang leader.

A pained scream distracted her. Riz and Fig had broken Saraih's hold on Gorgug, though not before the half-orc had torn Riz's platform to the ground and trapped the rogue and bard beneath it. Their berserker had come down from his rage and tried to free them when the gnoll barbarian smashed her maul into his back, forcing Gorgug to one knee. Another reckless attack almost dropped him.

Machaira gave Saraih a parting slash across the head and dashed at the gnoll's exposed back as it loomed over her friends. In that moment, she didn't care that they came here for information or that she had zero chance of taking down a barbarian in rage. She didn't need this gangster to hurt; she just wanted her to drop. Machaira drew her saber and slashed through the gnoll's side, blade carving into flesh. She moved to stand between the barbarian and her friends, barely standing after her fight with Saraih. Machaira tried to hiss, but it came out like a reedy whisper. Her mane struggled to fluff against the weight of wet blood that matted it.

The gnoll glared and started to raise her maul but broke off with a grunt halfway through the motion. She looked down at the line Machaira had carved in her side: certainly a painful cut but not nearly enough to drop her. The barbarian stared down at the four adventurers and loosed a war cry. She began to choke, sputtering for air. Foam built on her lips. A familiar smell drifted from her side that Machaira hadn't smelled in years, a scent that belonged nowhere in Elmville. The maul clattered to the floor as the barbarian sank to her knees, tongue lolling from her mouth in her struggle for air. The irregular tattoo of her heart became a rapid, panicked tempo before it stuttered out and died. Machaira looked down at her saber. The blade didn't look any different, but the first few images on her scabbard were just beginning to lose a faint green glow. Before Machaira could put the pieces together, pain exploded through her torso. Machaira heard herself scream, and her vison went black.

"Kristen, I'm out of spell slots; can you heal her?" Some distant part of Machaira recognized the voice. That same part of her also recognized that she was hurt but stabilized. Machaira wished that part of her brain would stop recognizing things so she could sleep. Her side throbbed. That made it hard to sleep as well. Someone chanted a spell. Machaira whined, a thin, tired noise of protest as she tried to curl inward, away from the sound. Pain lanced up her side, and she yelped quietly, shifting to her previous, less painful position. Fortunately, something seemed to be supporting her head and upper body.

"Not me," someone else yelled directly above her. "Heal Machaira! I was, like, barely hit that fight." The tabaxi tried to duck away from the noise, but fire ran up lines in her jaw. The scout flinched and hissed weakly. Moving was hard. Shaky hands started petting around her head. Why couldn't everyone just let her sleep?

"To be fair, Fig pointed at both of you," a third voice said. More chanting. Something tickled about her jaw, and the pain in her head faded, though the ache in her side remained. "Alright, I that's my last spell slot. I need to sit down."

"If that was your last spell slot, why did you heal her jaw and not the wound that's killing her!" The voice above Machaira nearly screamed with frustration. Adaine's voice. She recognized it now. She wished Adaine was a little quieter, but at least her mouth didn't hurt anymore. Her lower abdomen still hurt a lot, more than it had a few seconds ago.

"Well, I, okay, I'm not sure the yelling is necessary," Kristen slurred from somewhere nearby. "I wouldn't want to wake up looking like that." Machaira turned her head to the side, trying to get comfortable. Smells began to register. Her friends were around her, there were a bunch of dead gnolls nearby, and someone had lost a lot of blood. Her fur felt sticky. It was also much too cold in here. Her nose bumped into an arm. Adaine. She smelled mad. And scared, really scared. Machaira very cautiously nuzzled the arm, unsure if Adaine had the patience to cuddle right now. But maybe it would make Adaine feel better, and it would definitely make her feel better. The pain in her side was very distracting.

"Shh, hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here, it's okay," Adaine babbled above her. The shaky hands were all over her head now, too unsteady and quick to be soothing. Machaira shook her head before sagging against Adaine. That took a lot of work. She wanted to go back to sleep. "I think she's waking up. Machaira, can you hear me? Come on, Machaira, stay with me here." The tabaxi growled weakly in complaint but cracked her eyes open anyway. At least it was nighttime, so it wasn't too bright. Her head was in Adaine's lap, which was good. Her friends were all around her, which was also good. The head of a three-foot arrow poked out of her left side, which was less good.

"Mmm, did we win?" Machaira asked, voice slurring. Memories of the fight started to trickle back, but her mind felt fuzzy. She was cold and tired and Adaine was warm. The wizard was obsessively touching her head fur, hands moving all over her skull. It was more stressful than soothing, but she appreciated the attention.

"Yeah, uh, we did," Fig told her, biting her lip. "You, uh, did really good."

"So good," Fabian gushed. There was no pride in their voices, only nervous fear. Machaira grunted.

"How long was I out?" She managed.

"Not long," Riz said quietly.

"How, um, how do you feel?" Gorgug asked, rubbing his bicep.

" 'Bout as well as I can with an arrow going through my guts," she replied gruffly. Adaine's hands stilled on her temples. They all looked at each other. "I'm lucid now." She promised a bit hastily. Yes, she knew where she was and what was happening, but the rogue still wanted to go back to sleep very badly. Unfortunately, as her mind became clearer, the pain in her side became more pronounced. Machaira hissed and reached across to tap her bracelet before she forgot.

"Oh, okay, good," Fig took a deep breath, lit a clove, and sucked on it until the front quarter of the clove crumbled away. "Okay, so bad news first. Kristen and I are, uh, out of spell slots. We, um, can't heal you."

"I should hope so," Machaira muttered. "Otherwise it'd be weird that you left me like this for so long." Fig fear-giggled at her teasing and sucked down the next quarter of clove.

"Okay, Machaira, I swear, this is going to be okay," Adaine gasped out, thin chest fluttering as panic crept in. The tabaxi reached up to pat her cheek. Her arm was wobbly, and she missed the first two tries, but eventually Machaira managed to cup the wizard's face. Adaine looked down at her, and Machaira smiled at her. She didn't want Adaine to start panicking, and she really liked being able to touch her.

" 'Course it's going to be okay," she murmured. "I've been hurt worse. Just… give me a minute? And don't let me go to sleep. I really, really want to go to sleep, but I also shouldn't, okay?" Machaira did her best to pour affection into her gaze. Even in her addled state, it wasn't hard. Adaine met her eyes and nodded, making a visible effort to control herself. Machaira swiped her thumb back and forth, slowly stroking Adaine's cheek. The high elf framed her head between her hands, taking a deep breath. The wizard's heart rate slowed to a less insane tempo. Right then, Machaira couldn't think anywhere else she'd rather be.

That thought lasted maybe two seconds before intense, searing agony shot through her intestines. Machaira screeched, muscles spasming. Her vision swam. When the pain dialed back from torturous to horrible, she collapsed to the ground, chest heaving from the strain, which in turn sent waves of pain rippling through her body. Machaira blinked back tears to see that her head was still in Adaine's lap, but her hand was over her chest. Blood dripped from five shallow puncture marks on the right side of Adaine's face. Machaira recoiled, bile rising in her throat.

"I, I, I am so sorry, I, I don't – ahh-cck!" She winced. Her efforts to shy away from her mistake worsened the pain through her side. She felt sick. Gods, what was wrong with her? _Beast, Machaira, butcher, primitive_ –

"No, no, you're fine," Adaine protested, trying to pull Machaira back onto her lap. The tabaxi flinched away, trembling, and cried out as the pain magnified again. Adaine pulled against Machaira's best attempts to retreat, forcing the shivering rogue into her stomach. "It wasn't your fault, Machaira. I don't blame you. You're okay; you didn't hurt me that badly. I'm fine, see?" Adaine wiped at her face a few times, revealing that the marks were tiny scrapes in her skin. Machaira still felt awful though. _Machaira, brutish beast_, her mother's voice hissed. "It's not your fault." Adaine insisted firmly. The elf glared over at Kristen. "What on earth were you thinking?"

"She said not to let her fall asleep," the human protested, several feet further away from Machaira than she was earlier.

"Don't poke her arrow wound!" Fabian yelled. "Christ, Kristen, that was so unnecessary."

"Okay, okay," the cleric muttered. "I'm sorry. On the bright side, she's completely awake now."

"… true," Machaira grunted, still shaking. She couldn't seem to stop. Adaine stared down at her, expression full of confused sympathy. She kept her arms firmly wrapped around Machaira's shoulders as if she expected the scout to run away. The drying blood on her face made Machaira's stomach heave, which did not help the ripples of pain from her wound. "What about Saraih?" The rogue asked, desperate for a distraction.

"Oh shit, right, fuck, that bitch," Fig yelped, hastily putting her flask away and running off to Machaira's left. Kristen and Riz followed her. Fabian shuffled his feet for a moment and muttered something unintelligible before going to join them. Machaira could hear voices coming from somewhere over there, but she couldn't figure out what they were saying. She decided that could wait and focused on not looking at Adaine. A drop of blood hit her cheek, and Machaira shuddered.

"I'm not mad," Adaine assured her, tightening her hold. "I just want you to be okay." The smell of her blood burned in Machaira's nose. "You're not a monster just because you have sharp teeth and claws." Adaine told her. The high elf interlocked their fingers and squeezed her hand tightly, forcing her claws out. "I shoot fire sometimes. I'd lash out if someone poked at a hole in my abdomen, but that doesn't make me a dragon. I'm okay," she added more calmly. "I'm okay. I'm just scared for you." Adaine took a deep breath and loosened her grip on Machaira's hand. The tabaxi tightened her own grip instinctively. She didn't want to let go. Adaine smiled and giggled, running her fingertips over Machaira's scars. The rogue shivered harder but turned her head to give Adaine better access. Gorgug awkwardly cleared his throat and stuck his hands in the ruined pockets of his hoodie.

The next few minutes were a bit of a haze. Pain rolled through her body in waves. Every breath hurt. She was very, very cold from blood loss. Machaira wanted to go to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes Adaine would vigorously scratch her cheek or chin. The wizard wouldn't stop touching her, either ruffling or stroking her head fur. Not that Machaira was complaining. That was by far the best thing happening right then. But at some point she must have dozed for a little bit because when she came to the others were all whispering in a huddle a few feet away. Machaira thought the sharp scent of Adaine's anxiety might have woken her up. The high elf still held Machaira, but she'd stopped petting her, which was unfortunate. Machaira forced herself to focus in on the conversation.

"What are we going to do?" Fig was saying. "We can't heal her. We have to go to a hospital."

"I know how to set a broken leg," Kristen offered. "But camp didn't cover arrow wounds."

"Guys, if we go to the hospital, we could all go to prison," Riz hissed. "Saraih didn't know anything. Those crystals were just to run first level spells, and we killed all of them. I have the first aid kit. I can – "

"Do we take the arrow out or leave it in?" Kristen whispered. A minute of silence followed the question.

"Fuck," Fig muttered.

"Even if you sew her up, that thing tore all the way through her," Fabian reminded Riz.

"Yeah, no, she could bleed out internally," Kristen sided with the fighter. "I think she's getting worse."

"We can't afford the hospital," Riz snapped. "And if the cops find out that she was involved in more murders, she could be deported. You want her to go back to her parents?"

"That's better than dying," Gorgug rebutted.

"You think Machaira would agree with that?" Fabian challenged.

"Oh, fuck," Fig repeated.

"Okay, somebody take out their crystal and look up whether we leave the arrow in or – "

"Nnnnyaa – urrgghh," Machaira grunted as she grabbed the arrow by the head and pulled it most of the way through her body.

"Oh my god," Adaine yelled, starting. Machaira grunted and fully removed the shaft.

"Didn't… didn't puncture the liver, vital organs, or an artery," she panted. "And gnoll weapons are always dirty. Better to pull it out." She looked over at the others. "Not the first time I've been shot without a cleric on hand."

"Do you know what to do?" Riz asked, running over to squat next to her. "Can you tell us how to treat you?"

"Depends," she ground out.

"On what?" Kristen asked. Machaira held up the arrow head. It took a moment to focus on it.

"That," she answered without enthusiasm. "It's barbed _and_ serrated. Lovely."

"Okay, what does that mean?" Adaine demanded.

"Means it's not a clean hole going through," she responded, holding her hands on either puncture wound. She looked up at her friends. Everyone was at least a little hurt, but no one else was seriously injured. Kristen had gotten to them in time. Thank gods for group healing spells. "If this was a clean hole, I could talk you through it. We'd be out of here in, like, five minutes. But I'm probably all messed up inside. If it was one of you, I'd say we go to a hospital."

"Great, let's go," Kristen said.

"But if we do that, you guys might go to jail," Machaira finished. "So not happening."

"Guys, remember what we talked about," Riz muttered under his breath, looking pointedly about the group.

"Cat ears," she reminded the goblin, flicking the tattered scrap that passed for her right ear at him. Her party winced. "I might have lost a most of them, but I'm not deaf. If they do decide to deport me, I'll start killing cops 'til I break free or someone guns me down, but I'm not going back. Fortunately, I just have to survive until Fig and Kristen have taken a nice, long nap and get their spells back. Only problem is that Cure Wounds doesn't stop infection. You can heal the actual puncture tomorrow morning, but if you seal infected tissue inside me, I'm gonna hurt a lot later on. So, we have one good option, one bad option, and one really bad option."

"Yes," Fabian clapped. "A good option, finally, let's hear it."

"Disinfect the wound and wrap me up in some bandages," Machaira began. Riz and Fabian began unpacking the first aid kit with relieved grins.

"Done," Riz chirped.

"So done," Fabian emphasized, approaching Machaira with a length of gauze.

"And leave me in a secluded corner of the warehouse until morning," she finished. The boys froze. "We don't know how badly I'm hurt. You move me too much, I might not make it to morning. Leaving me here means the cops won't find out about this before someone comes back to heal me. It's relatively low risk."

"No." Adaine's voice brokered no argument.

"That's the good option?" Gorgug questioned.

"We're not leaving you in a warehouse full of corpses," Riz laughed hysterically.

"Yeah, no, what are the other options," Fig inquired, unscrewing a flask.

"The bad option is you splash some booze in my hole, phrasing, wrap me up, and we go home praying that I don't get infected or die from torn body parts moving around inside me." Machaira grunted.

"That doesn't sound safe," Kristen offered.

"That's the one where I'm most likely to die," she grunted. "Kinda why I said the bad option."

"So what's option three?" Gorgug asked. Machaira pursed her lips. Her hands were shaking over her wound.

"We treat it here," she groaned. "We can't treat it properly without a real doctor and medical supplies, but we can seal it up enough that it'll be safe to move me someplace else until morning. Best chance of survival this way."

"Why the fuck didn't you lead with that?" Fabian demanded, rooting through the first aid kit again. "What do we need? Gauze, iodine – "

"A big metal stick," she grunted. "Something that can fit inside the hole." Fabian dropped the bottle of iodine. "Phrasing." She added as an afterthought. Fig stress-snickered and took a big swig from her flask.

"What do you need the big stick for?" Kristen asked. Machaira reached out with her left hand, fumbling for the arrow. Adaine pressed the arrow into her hand. Machaira clutched the shaft tightly. Her fingers had trouble wrapping around it.

"Thanks," she muttered up at Adaine, quirking a smile. The wizard bit her lip and didn't return the smile. Machaira pretended that that didn't make her uneasy and held up the arrow head to her face, jaws parted to draw air over the roof of her mouth, tasting which organs left residue on the arrow. "This type of arrow is designed to mangle flesh on its way through. Most of this is from my intestines, but the scrap on the left barb is from my kidney." Gorgug turned, walked three steps away, and threw up. "But that black gunk on the tip didn't come from my body. It was already on the arrow, which means that no matter how we treat the entry and exit marks, my internal injuries can still bleed out or get infected by morning. You can take me to a hospital, or you leave me here, or we do nothing and cross our fingers."

"You said we could stabilize you until tomorrow," Adaine reminded her in a small voice. Machaira tried to toss the arrow aside but barely succeeded in dropping it.

"Yeah, you said we needed a big metal stick," Fabian backtracked. "Is this to, eh, um, plug, the, uh, ah, hole?"

"Not quite," Machaira told him. She turned to their tiefling. "Did you use your magic guitar pick yet?"

"No, but I can't use it to play a Song of Rest," she reminded Machaira.

"You can use it to cast Burning Hands, though," the rogue reminded her. Fig almost lost her grip on her flask.

"Oh gods," Adaine breathed.

"I don't like where this is going," Kristen added.

"Get some scrap wood together, and start a fire so we can cauterize this." Machaira calmly spelled it out.

"I thought you said you could still die from the internal injuries," Riz pointed out quietly.

"We're not cauterizing the outside," she clarified. Adaine's hands trembled.

"No," the elf breathed. "That will really kill you."

"Not before Kristen regenerates some spell slots," the tabaxi grunted. "Without a hospital or trained doctors, we can't treat this properly. All we can do is seal it closed until tomorrow. It's up to you guys what we do, but I'd rather you leave me here than try to move me right now."

"We can't leave you here," Gorgug protested.

"We can't take her to the hospital," Riz insisted. "My mom might not be able to stop them from sending her away and throwing the rest of us in prison. Some of the other cops were suspicious when they couldn't find records for her."

"Okay, nobody's gonna go to jail," Fabian shot back.

"But they might send her away," Kristen repeated him.

"We won't let them take Machaira away," Fig insisted, waving a finger at the cleric. "We can fight back."

"Are we gonna kill all the cops?" Gorgug wailed.

"No," Riz almost cried.

"Well, no, okay, not that," Fabian agreed.

"We are not letting anyone send Machaira back to her parents." Adaine stated. "If it comes to that, I'm sorry, Riz, but I will start killing cops."

"We can't, uh, ah, fight the entire police force," Fabian rebutted. "Okay, that's, ah, just a fact. Even if we somehow did win, ah, what then? We all, just, go into hiding? No, okay, let's not get carried away here."

"Then we have to treat her now and wait until morning for Kristen to actually heal her," Riz concluded. They stood in silence, staring at each other, each waiting for someone else to say the stupid thing that triggered the idea to solve their problem.

"You don't have to do anything," Machaira panted. "There isn't an easy way out of this."

"Okay, ah, no, you, mm, you stop, stop with that," Fabian stuttered, vigorously waving a finger at her. "That's not, er, not happening. Christ, we're not leaving you half dead in a crime scene alone at night!"

"Other people have, and I didn't give them permission," Machaira growled, head drooping forward a bit. She shook herself with another growl. It took a second for the room to stop spinning. Adaine cupped her cheeks.

"Tell me what to do," she ordered Machaira quietly. "You said we need a fire and a big metal stick?"

"I, uh, think I saw a…" Fabian trailed away. "Christ, I can't believe we're doing this. But, I, um, think I saw a metal spear shaft. Will that, is that, ah, okay?"

"If it fits," the scout grunted. Unfortunately, no one seemed keen to pick up the slack on shaft and hole related jokes. She _knew_ she wasn't the only one here with a dirty mind.

"Oh god, right, yes, I'll go, uh, find it, then," Fabian stuttered and walked away.

"So, I'm on fire duty, right?" Fig asked.

"The one fun job," Machaira murmured. "Just try not to burn down the whole building, okay?"

"Right," Fig muttered, walking away as well. Gorgug went to go join her.

"Kristen, I need you to find a wooden stick for me to bite down on," Machaira told the human. "Not metal, or I'll crack my teeth when I bite it. Let's not use your staff because I don't want to break it. Maybe, like, an ax handle or something that I can fit my mouth around."

"Gotcha," Kristen gulped before standing up, tottering a bit as the exhausted cleric tried to find her balance before walking off into the warehouse.

"What about the rest of us?" Riz asked.

"I'm going to need all of you soon," Machaira murmured. "After we cauterize the wound, I want you to sew the holes shut. But for the moment, we need to get the injury clean."

"I've got the iodine," Riz confirmed. He dribbled some onto a cotton ball. "So, I, uh, just…" He touched it to her side, and Machaira snarled at the burn. Riz jumped back.

"Sorry," she grunted. "Go ahead. I'm just, um, just, ignore that."

"Right," Riz couldn't quite meet Machaira's gaze as he reapplied the iodine. Machaira stiffened and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Is there anything I can do?" Adaine asked.

"Stay with me," Machaira forced out between her teeth. "Stay here and talk to me so I don't start freaking out."

"Okay," Adaine breathed. Thin elven fingers pulled Machaira's head down and tilted her to look up into the wizard's fearful blue eyes. Adaine bit her lip, staring down at Machaira. The tabaxi hated seeing her so worried. She'd have to find a really nice way to apologize, preferably someplace warmer. "I, uh, can't think of anything." Adaine admitted. Machaira's side spasmed as Riz touched it, and the scout clenched her jaws on a hiss, tendons straining in her neck. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the way Adaine looked at her for that. _Primitive, ugly, beast_.

"What happened to the gnolls?" Machaira ground out.

"All dead," Adaine admitted. "I managed to cast Tasha's Hideous Laughter on Saraih, so we could take her alive. You, uh, definitely took some of the fight out of her." Machaira closed her eyes. _Brutish, beast, Machaira, primitive_. Adaine began stroking her muzzle and cheeks. "I know what you're thinking. Stop it. You did great. That was seriously badass. Saraih was so freaking strong, I have no idea how Johnny's greasers won the gang war. Even after you beat the shit out of her, she just wouldn't stay down."

"She kicked my ass," Machaira muttered.

"Debatable." Adaine told her in a tone that invited no debate. Machaira's breath resounded with the beginnings of a purr, rolling out over the warehouse like the warnings of a distant storm. Adaine pulled her a touch closer. Machaira nuzzled her. The elf was warm, and she wanted to stay close to her.

"Is she still alive?" Machaira asked quietly.

"Um… no. She wouldn't answer any of our questions. She, uh, broke free and tried to kill us. Fabian, Fabian stabbed her through the heart. Afterward, Riz found the crystals. Saraih wasn't using them as palimpsests. I just… I just don't get it. She had lost. Why would she attack us when she had nothing to gain?" Machaira kept her eyes closed. She could feel Riz poking around the wound, trying his best not to hurt her further.

"Did you know gnolls are mentally connected to their creator, Yeenoghu?" The rogue swept on without waiting for a response. "The demon provides them with a sense of unity and encourages them to kill without thinking. Fighting is simple so long as you never stop to think about the why of it. Through Yeenoghu, the gnolls are given an identity, a larger group to be a part of. Mindless slaughter frees them from the reality of consequence, doubt, and responsibility. So long as they cling to those ideas, they never have to afraid, no matter how bad the situation becomes."

"Sounds like you've thought about this a lot." Machaira cringed at Adaine's tone. The wizard was contemplating. The closer Adaine looked at Machaira, the more her friend would see how fucked up she was.

"I've had a few run ins with gnoll war bands," she responded quietly. "Their way of life is… easy. It's not difficult to kill when you don't think about anything and you have a fanatical mob supporting you. I never joined the gnolls, even hunted them a few times. But fighting them always made me think about myself, all the mistakes I've made. It's like seeing all the worst parts of me put together, everything I don't want to be."

"They're like a dark reflection, like what you could have been if you'd taken the easy way out or something?" Adaine asked. Machaira didn't say anything. The high elf sighed. "You're not like them, Machaira, and you know that. You're not a mindless monster, so stop thinking that you are one." Adaine kept petting her face. Machaira peeked up to see the diviner frowning down at her, annoyance written all over her face. The tabaxi closer her eyes, shoulders tensing. Adaine sighed again and scratched gently along her throat.

"You're a good friend," Machaira murmured, a touch of guilt creeping into her voice.

"Then do me a favor and stop getting hurt," the other girl instructed.

"Mmm, less blood, more cuddles," the scout made the mental leap in a murmur.

"Yes, absolutely," Adaine agreed firmly. "And next time, we go to Basrar's." Machaira tried to chuckle but yelped as Riz accidently stuck the iodine bandage into her side.

"Sorry," she hissed to Riz. The goblin muttered something apologetic in turn and went back to dabbing at her injury. "I'd like that." She told Adaine softly. The wizard smiled, and for another brief moment everything felt okay.

"Fabian and I have your big sticks," Kristen piped up, proffering a great ax. Adaine giggled (finally!), and Machaira looked over to see Fabian approaching with a spear, the handle of which was coated in iron.

"Is, uh, this good enough?" the fighter asked hesitantly. Machaira squinted at the weapon. It was really more of a javelin than a spear, but semantics aside it should fit. She nodded.

"Here, let me clean it off," Riz said, taking the javelin from Fabian and wiping it down with a fresh iodine rag.

"Okay, I, um, I got the fire going," Fig said, shuffling about with Gorgug on Machaira's left. "So, do we, um… gods, this is insane." Fig took another pull from her flask. "I probably shouldn't be drinking right now."

"It'll be over soon," Machaira promised her. She turned to Fabian. "One last job for you before this is over. I need you to cauterize the wound." They knew this part was coming. Fabian still bleached. The others looked around with a mix of horror, relief, and guilt at being passed up for this terrible job.

"Why me?" Fabian demanded. "I mean, uh, Adaine has a, ah, cool head. And Gorgug is, um, very, very strong. Er, Fig is, ah, really, um, good with, you know, fire – "

"Whoever does this has to be able to push against the full force of my body," Machaira explained. "Every instinct is going to try and force you out, and I'm a decent bit stronger than most of the party. You're also going to have to push it in slow and steady to avoid doing any extra damage. Whoever cauterizes this has to be willing to hurt me a lot. I trust you to do what needs to be done even when it's hard. But if you don't want to do this, I won't force you. Okay, well, I can't force you, but I won't blame you for not doing this." Fabian blinked and stared at her for a long minute before looking at the spear in his hands.

"Fuck," he breathed. "No, of course, I'll… Christ." He took a deep breath. "No, I'll, I'll do it. Do I, uh, I guess I shouldn't use the pointy end." Machaira huffed and shook her head. Fabian stumbled over to the fire.

"Anything else we can do?" Adaine asked in a small voice.

"Yes," she grunted. "Hold me down. This is going to hurt like balls. If I move too much, it'll do more harm than good. There's also a chance I might accidently maul Fabian. Gorgug, I'm going to need you to hold my legs." The half-orc whimpered a little and got down on his knees, taking a gentle hold of Machaira's ankles. "No, sweetheart, you need to kneel on my calf and hold me down by the hips. Never do this with Zelda unless she asks you." Machaira added as an afterthought. Kristen smirked, but the expression was strained.

"Do I have to?" Gorgug whispered.

"No, you can all stop right now, go home, and come back for me in the morning," Machaira told him. "That's still an option. But if we do this, you have to keep me still, no matter what I say or do, okay? I'll be in a lot of pain, and you have to keep me there so I don't get hurt worse." The poor barbarian was sweating sheets but followed her instructions anyway. Machaira flexed her legs, testing for weaknesses. "Put your shins across my ankles and push down harder with your hands. You can't let me move at all." Gorgug gulped, nodded, and adjusted his hold. "Right, everyone else, grab my arms."

"Oh gods," Adaine breathed. She slowly slipped out from under Machaira. The tabaxi mewled despite herself as she was laid flat. Adaine and Fig hesitantly took one arm. Kristen and Riz took the other. Machaira unsheathed her claws and rotated her wrists around.

"You guys need to hold on tighter, a little further up my arm, and push down on me more," she advised. "Make sure someone has a hand over my wrists. I could probably still claw you." Fig drained her flask. Kristen gulped. Machaira could feel Adaine trembling as she strained to press harder against both Machaira and her every instinct. Machaira blinked slowly at the wizard and tried to keep her expression soft. If she was honest, being held down made her fur bristle, but she wasn't nearly as sensitive about it as she used to be. Fabian walked back holding the spear backwards, hand just behind the blade. The handle glowed a bright orange/white.

"Um, ah, is this really necessary," he asked breathlessly. The spear trembled in his hands.

"Fabian, look at me," she commanded softly. Silver eyes met gold as Fabian did as she asked. "It's alright. I know this is scary, but you're going to be okay."

"I know I'm going to be okay!" Fabian exploded. "You're the one who's about to get her guts burned. And I have to…" He trailed off into unintelligible stutters. "Aren't you scared?"

"A little," the tabaxi admitted quietly. She was having trouble staying awake. "But why should I be afraid? I'm surrounded by my family." Fabian stopped breathing for a moment then sucked in a long, deep breath and released it slowly. He looked up at the rest of the party. They stared at each other for a good minute. Something passed between them that Machaira was no longer coherent enough to recognize. Fabian stared down at her, eyes hardening with resolve.

"Yes," he said. "You are." Fabian nodded at the others, who tightened their holds on her. Kristen started and jumped up to grab the ax. The cleric offered Machaira the handle. The rogue might have been embarrassed if she hadn't been so tired as she gripped the wood securely between her carnassials. She laid her head back on the concrete and closed her eyes. A couple puffs as Fabian readied himself, and the pain in her body intensified tenfold. Machaira tried to hold in a scream, eyes screwed shut and body shaking.

The process was… invasive. Horribly painful, humiliating, and maddeningly slow would have accurately described the procedure, but the feeling of being forcibly filled was terrifying in its own right. She'd asked for this; she trusted her friends; she knew this was for her own good. But the memory of every time she'd been raped or abused seethed in the failing shreds of her brain. Searing agony spread from her abdomen in spasms as Fabian slowly forced the spear through her clenched muscles, carefully weaving it among the mass of shredded organs the gnoll arrow had left behind. Machaira lost track of time. The pain spread up her torso like cracks in glass until it ran across her entire body, stabbing into any logical defense she tried to offer against the tidal wave of instinct telling her to run, to fight back. Her claws flexed, extending until they trembled. A thin whine built in the back of her throat, building with the deliberate, inevitable penetration of her wound until she was screeching in blind terror as agony consumed her body, blocking out all other stimuli.

Her friends didn't let Machaira move a centimeter. Machaira couldn't see them, had lost all sense of sound and smell save for her screams and the burning of her own flesh. But when the pain almost became too much to bear, when her struggles had begun to grow weak as exhaustion took over, the spear started to recede, a process every bit as slow and painful as the entry. A tiny voice in the back of her head whispered that the end was in sight. Machaira panted around the ax handle, facial fur wet with tears that still ran down her cheeks, froth building in the back of her throat and threatening to choke her.

Finally, the spear was removed from her body, and Machaira sagged against the floor. Someone helped her spit out the partially crushed ax handle. Her vision swam. Fiery pain rippled across her body in waves, but she was still really cold. Even after her friends let go of her, Machaira didn't get up. The scout felt as if all the energy in her body had been drained away, which wasn't that far from the truth. She trembled, still trying to force back the lingering sensation of powerlessness and violation she'd just experienced. But when she finally focused on Fabian, kneeling next to her with the bloody spear in hand, the tabaxi smiled at him.

"Thank you," she murmured, eyelids heavy. "I know that must have been hard. You were really brave, Fabian. All of you were. M'sorry you had – " The fighter dropped the javelin, bent down, scooped her up, and embraced her, angling his body across her upper torso to avoid her fresh burns. Machaira hugged him back without hesitation, the faintest starts of a purr interrupted by her labored panting.

"How are you…" Fabian trailed away. "I could have killed you. That was the worst thing I've ever experienced, hands down, and I wasn't even the one…" Machaira stroked his hair and nuzzled the side of his head.

"I'm okay," she breathed. "We're gonna be okay, even if none of this was okay. I trust you guys. You're a good friend, Fabian. 'M lucky to have you." Fabian took a deep breath and rubbed furiously at his eyes.

"You're a good friend too, Machaira," Fabian said thickly. He pulled away, letting the rogue sink back toward the floor. Someone else caught her, instantly identified by touch. Machaira snuggled into Adaine's arms, allowing the wizard to maneuver her in whatever way the high elf thought would aggravate her wound the least. She reached up and brushed a tear off Adaine's cheek. It was hard because she could no longer feel her fingers.

" 'M sorry I hurt your face," Machaira droned. "You're still _really_ pretty." Adaine smiled, blushed, and laughed. The tabaxi took that as a sign to relax, going limp on Adaine's lap. Fabian said something about calling a car. Adaine cast Press the Digitation to conceal their involvement and then kept her hands busy with cleaning bits of gunk out of Machaira's mane and wiping at the damp stains on her face, an experience the rogue considered ample compensation for her less than stellar night.

Completely spent from recent events, the tabaxi was hardly aware of what was around her. Riz sewed up her wounds, eliciting a few exhausted hisses. After a few minutes someone said they needed to go wait for the cars a few blocks away, and Machaira stood, growling uncomfortably as nausea and stabbing pains rolled over her body. She only managed a few stumbling steps by herself before Gorgug picked her up and carried her like a baby. Machaira's initial growl faded into a weak purr as the half-orc's unthreatening smell rolled over her.

"You're a sweet barbarian," she whispered sleepily. The rest of the night passed in a haze of pain and tiredness. Riz made her swallow something that took the edge off the burning in her stomach. At some point Adaine was mad and arguing, and Machaira chuffed at her to try and comfort her. Then the party split up, and Fig was guiding Machaira into a car, smoothing out her jacket for the majority of the ride. The tiefling then helped her out of the car and up a flight of stairs.

"Come one, you got this," Fig told her, arm under the scout's shoulders as she dragged them both up another bend in the stairwell. "You're a bad ass bitch; you got this."

"… thought you were the bad ass bitch?" Machaira gasped around the overwhelming need to cry and vomit.

"Well, I'm the primary bad ass bitch," the bard clarified. "But you're pretty high up there." By the time she was done with stairs, Machaira didn't even know where she was. She stumbled into a room, leaning heavily on Fig. Riz's voice floated around her from somewhere, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Some part of her fevered brain identified a coffee table on top of a rug, and she slunk underneath it and passed out at once. When Machaira woke up, she had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but she felt disgusting. The tabaxi tried to stretch and had to clench her jaws on a shriek of pain. Memories of last night came crashing back over her.

"Hey," Riz said somewhere above her. Machaira inched her way out from under the table to see Riz sitting on the couch with bags under his eyes. At some point he had showered and made coffee, but he still looked tired and scared. "Glad to see you awake. I was worried about you. We all were." Machaira blinked at him, grunted, and dragged herself out from under the table.

"Sorry for worrying you," she mumbled. "I'll be more careful."

"None of last night was your fault. You could have slept in my bed, by the way, or at least taken the couch."

"Instinct, Riz," she growled lowly. "I like being under things. Small spaces make good hiding spots." The goblin nodded. The scout wanted to roll onto her back and go back to sleep, but she forced herself to stand, cross the room, and sit at the table instead, head propped on a shaky arm. It was taking all her energy not to cry at the burning in her gut.

"So, um, you, uh, weren't exactly all there after Fabian, you know…" Riz trailed off, standing up and shuffling his feet. "How much do you remember?" Machaira huffed, tail tip flicking on the floor.

"Not much after the cauterizing," the tabaxi managed. "Just flashes of scent, couple snippets of conversation, few impressions of someone hovering over me. Usually takes me a few days to properly remember that kinda shit, though." Riz nodded again, fiddling with his hat.

"Right, so, um, Adaine fixed your jacket." Machaira patted her side and immediately hissed. Gods, she was stupid. But she did confirm that the only material possession she liked was good as new again. She would have to do something really special for her friend to make up for last night's shitty turn of events. "She also cast Identify on your scabbard. Turns out its magical. You can instantly coat your saber in poison three times a day, but there's a minute cooldown between uses. I, uh, thought you might want to know."

"Venom." She grunted. Riz frowned at her. "I recognized the scent when I cut that barbarian. It's not poison; it's wyvern venom. Haven't smelled it in years, but there's no mistaking it." The tear drop-shaped burn on her neck itched. Machaira gave it a scratch. She knew from hard experience that was a high-tier toxin. While she was happy to protect her friends, the scabbard's nature left her uneasy. The enchantment was very much aimed at her predatory background, but the scout was reluctant to use poisons unless she was feeling particularly spiteful. She didn't like having temptation so readily available. For a few minutes, she and Riz held an uncomfortable silence. Well, Machaira wasn't sure if the silence was uncomfortable, but she certainly was.

"I'm sorry," Riz quietly broke the tension. "I was so focused on the case, I almost got everyone killed. Gorgug wants to go see Jawbone tomorrow. Fabian texted me to see if you're alright, but he won't talk to me otherwise. Both of them blame themselves for not taking care of the situation before you got hurt. Adaine wanted to stay with you tonight, and she was almost screaming when the rest of us said that she should go home so that no one would get suspicious. Fig got absolutely hammered after she helped carry you home. Kristen came over at, like, four a.m. because she had night terrors. Besides the, you know, thing with you, I asked her to inspect some shrine the gnolls had set up. She could hear the last thoughts of people sacrificed there to Yeenoghu. And you… how the fuck were you so calm?" Machaira looked over at Riz without taking her head off her hand, face smushed into her fist. She extended her left arm to invite Riz into a truly gross hug that the other rogue immediately accepted. The tabaxi grunted when he touched her, shivers of pain sparking from the contact, but kept her hold anyway.

"Blood loss helps," she sassed. Riz quirked a grin. "I've been ripped apart and stitched back together enough times that it's lost some of the shock value. The world is a fucked-up place. Most of everything in it sucks ass. Best you can do is focus on what's important and try to make that better. Our party, our friends, they matter to me, and not much else does. And you matter to us. This might have started as your case, but it's ours now. So we're going to come along on whatever dumb-ass idea you come up with. And there's going to be times when shit hits the fan, and everything is fucked, and nothing is okay. So we freak out and move on with our lives. We signed up to be adventurers: that comes with shit like last night. But we're all going to be okay, and we don't blame you for this. I certainly don't."

"Thanks," the inquisitor mumbled.

"The Ball never bounces alone," Machaira cheeked. Riz snorted and pulled away. The door rattled, and Sklonda walked in, shoulders sagging after a long night shift.

"Oh, good morning, Machaira," she greeted. "You kids look awful. I hope you haven't been up all night."

"Nah, just had a bit of a rough night," Machaira mumbled, trying to look sleepy instead of agonized.

"Oh, anything serious?" Sklonda asked, turning to Riz. As she went to close the door, Fig and Kristen crashed into the room, bass and staff at the ready. The tiefling staggered a bit, squinting against the lights. She was lucky her devilish heritage softened the effects of a hangover.

"We're so sorry we overslept," Kristen rushed, guilty expression aglow with bardic inspiration. "Let's get you – heeeeeeeey, Mrs. Gukgak. How, how, hooooowww are you doing?" Both girls tried to smile innocently. The detective frowned.

"Oh fuck it," Fig muttered, immediately playing a Song of Rest. Kristen cast three spells in rapid succession. Machaira moaned in relief as the terrible burning faded, taking the nausea with it.

"Thank you so very, very much," the tabaxi groaned with feeling, leaning back and rubbing her stomach.

"What is going on?" Sklonda demanded. Fig opened her mouth, no doubt to spin a lie on the spot, but Machaira beat her to it.

"I got shot," she told the detective calmly. "Some gnolls tried to throw down with us. Kristen and Fig had already used their spell slots, so Fabian and Riz had to stitch me up." The scout reached under her jacket with a claw, hissing as she ripped the bloody thread from her right side and held it up to the older goblin. "Riz had a first aid kit on hand and convinced me to spend the night here." She met Sklonda's gaze calmly. Everything she said was true, so she didn't think Sklonda's 'mom senses' would pick up on anything. Fortunately, she was right.

"In the future, I'd feel better if you went to the hospital," the detective admonished. "But I understand why you didn't. Riz, that was smart thinking with the first aid kit. Good job getting her to come back here, too. I know that wasn't your first choice." Sklonda directed the last statement at Machaira, stroking her filthy mane. It wasn't as nice as when Adaine did it, but Machaira enjoyed the gesture all the same. The goblin woman kissed her son on the head and smiled Kristen and Fig. "I'm proud of how well you kids look after each other. You girls want to join us for break – I have to go to the store." Sklonda broke off with a sigh.

"Actually, I was going to go to lunch later with my dad, Gorthalax," Fig told her. "Why don't you all come join us?"

"I got to get some sleep before I go shopping," Sklonda turned her down gently as she made her way to the closet. "But that sounds like a good idea. Machaira, you've got to be dying to get that blood out of your fur. Why don't you take a shower and wash your clothes here before lunch, maybe have a cup of coffee? I got a t-shirt and some sweatpants for you to change into." The detective handed Machaira some baggy sweatpants, a large t-shirt, and a pair of socks. "I obviously don't have any underwear for you, so you might want to stay here until your clothes come out of the wash." The rogue knew Sklonda wanted to keep her out of the forest and around other humanoids as much as possible, but she appreciated the gesture. While the clothes were a little large for her, the thick shirt had long sleeves to cover her scars and she'd at least be comfortable.

"I'll have to make a hole for my tail," she told Sklonda. "But otherwise it's great. Thank you, so much. I can see where Riz gets his, well, everything from." Riz flushed a darker green, and Sklonda smiled. "But first I have to call the others and let them know that I'm okay."

"You should start with Adaine," Fig suggested, smiling wickedly. "She was really upset last night."

"I'll call Adaine last because she'll want to talk the most," Machaira corrected, far too tired to try and guess what mischief the bard was up to. Sklonda left to go to bed, and the girls settled around the coffee pot with Riz. Fig spiked her mug and then spiked Kristen's before asking the cleric if she wanted any. The cleric drank her altered coffee too quickly, blinking hugely and coughing roughly as it went down. Machaira took out her crystal and tapped Gorgug's contact, tension melting from her body. Yesterday's horror already felt distant. For now, life was good.


	20. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 6: Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The simplest part of life is often the source of the most confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. I put this chapter through a lot of revisions. Quick note, Sisterly Showdown is approaching, and I will be taking commentator votes on whose perspective it will be written in. I will repeat this note at the bottom of the chapter for people who skip notes at the top.
> 
> These are the aspects of the story I am always the least confident about, so all criticisms and praises are helpful!

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 6: Sex**

"Machaira, have you ever had sex with girls?" Adaine froze at the question, piece of elven whey bread halfway to her mouth. She glanced over at the tabaxi on her right, who had likewise frozen mid-chew. Machaira frowned, staring at Kristen for a moment before glancing about the table. It was about a week after the disaster with Saraih and her gang. They had met up at the Gukgak residence for dinner. Sklonda was at work, so they had the apartment to themselves. Kristen had dropped that very personal bombshell of a question without warning during a brief lull in a discussion about Porter. The rest of the party seemed to be equally blindsided by the abrupt shift in conversation. Fig snickered and took a sip from her flask, swirling her dead pet oyster around its putrid glass with her other hand. Machaira finally redirected her attention toward Kristen and swallowed.

"I mean, yeah," she answered.

"How do you, like, do it?" Machaira didn't have an eyebrow, but she arched the muscle above her left eye in a pretty good approximation.

"What?"

"Well, it's just that I, uh, was looking on some sites for new lesbians," Kristen opened. "And I was a little nervous and, uh, hoped you had some advice on, you know, that." Machaira maintained silent eye contact. "How do you have sex?" Kristen clarified. "Like how, how, how do you do that with girls?" The scout blinked once, twice. She looked around the table. Everyone was staring at her. To Machaira's credit, she didn't seem at all uncomfortable, merely surprised.

"Are we really doing this?" She asked mildly. "Is this a conversation we're going to have right now?"

"Yes, please," Kristen voted, raising her hand. Adaine giggled along with the rest of the party. Fabian started to protest, but Fig and Gorgug quickly voted over him, adding their hands to Kristen's. Riz just laughed and sank lower in his chair.

"Fuck it," Machaira sighed. "I'm not nearly drunk enough for this conversation, but sure, why not?" Fig offered her flask, and Machaira held up a clawed hand, shaking her head.

"Awesome," Kristen gushed, grinning hugely. "So, like, how do you, like, position yourself – "

"Going to stop you right there," the rogue cut her off just as Fabian and Adaine started to cringe. "I am not telling you anything mechanical. No, no, no, you have to figure that out on your own. Trust me," She spoke over the cleric's attempted interruption. "Better in the long run that you stay nervous and cautious and experiment for yourself at first. You want to be a little unsure and hesitant in the beginning."

"So, you're not going to explain anything?" Kristen clarified. "Come on, I have, like, so many questions."

"And I'll answer the important ones," Machaira countered. "Like how to get someone turned on, how to pick a good partner, how to ensure that you're a good lay for the other person – "

"Yes, that one," Kristen jumped in. "Teach me that one!" The human leaned over the table, eyes wide.

"Okay, Kristen, before I say anything, I need you to turn down the horniness," Machaira instructed. Fig lead another round of giggles. "Right now you're at like an eight, and I need you to go down to a three, maximum, alright?" The rogue mimed turning a dial. Kristen sat down and muttered an apology amid more laughter. Despite clear efforts to contain her enthusiasm, the cleric's huge eyes and lip-biting still screamed thirsty. Kristen never could hide her emotions. Machaira sighed, closed her eyes, and held out a hand toward Fig.

"I might need a sip after all," she admitted. "Just a sip." Fig handed over her flask, smirking with evil glee. For some reason the tiefling glanced at Adaine before handing over the flask. The scout sniffed the drink, curled her lip, and took a small, cautious sip. Kristen shifted about impatiently as Machaira tossed the alcohol around her mouth a bit before swallowing and taking a second, equally small sip with a shrug.

"Alright," she sighed, handing the flask back to Fig and turning to Kristen. "First, I had to learn this through trial and error, mostly error. Second, your experience is going to be different from mine. But the most important thing you need to remember is that your lesbian status literally doesn't matter, not one tiny bit. Every humanoid in the world want the same things, whether gay or straight, male or female, human or elf, or anything in between. Sex is an expression of these desires and the emotions that come from them. People who are asexual or sex repressed still have these desires, but they don't express them through sex, which is fine. But if you're going to go looking for a good fuck, you need to know what you're looking for."

"Obviously, formalities out of the way, communicate, okay? I'm not talking about consent – although that is NECESSARY!" The tabaxi rushed. "Make sure you have consent before you do anything! But communication isn't limited to consent or even to words. It is entirely possible to have phenomenal, healthy sex without saying a word so long as you pay attention to the other person, respect their boundaries, etc. And, even before sex, make sure they're comfortable with what's going on. You have to both want to be there in the first place, so just keep it open, keep it honest, try to read their signals and body language and all of that. Sex is a dialogue. If you're not sure, ask, every time. Okay?" Machaira waited until everyone nodded along. "Alright, great, got that out of the way."

"Everyone wants someone to think that they're beautiful, and by that I mean everyone wants someone who looks at them like they're special, who treats them as a unique entity. A person is beautiful when they are personally wonderful to look at, whether for their outer or interior qualities. Everyone wants to feel beautiful in some way, and that feeling can only be gratified by others, which is why it can be so dangerous to pursue. It is almost impossible to have consensual sex with someone you don't find beautiful. Outer beauty is the basis of attraction, that first initial step toward sex. But no relationship is healthy without a recognition of inner beauty. Before you even think about having sex, you need to figure out what you find beautiful and what the other person finds beautiful about you, both inside and out. Otherwise you are damning yourself to hurt later on, or maybe just a one-night stand. In short, everyone _wants to be wanted_."

Machaira paused to let that sink in and took a bite of chicken, whiskers twitching at the heavy oil in the fried food. For once, the party had settled down, listening closely to Machaira. Adaine was riveted. This was so much more complex than anything she might have expected. Not that she thought Machaira was dumb, but the tabaxi rarely dealt with intricacies, preferring a simple, direct approach to a situation. This was much more interesting than the expected explanation on mechanics.

"Second, everyone wants to be cared for. Even the most independent or stubborn person in the world wants to know that someone has their back and is concerned for their well-being. Now, caring for someone just means that you support them in some way. The flip side of that is that most healthy people want to care for someone else. There's a few outliers, but generally speaking people want to provide for someone else. That feeling you get when you make life better for someone you care about – that's a vital aspect of being a part of something larger than yourself, be it a society or a relationship. Both of these needs, being cared for and caring for another, are equally important. You have to know what your needs are, physical and emotional, that you want someone to fulfill and what is the extent of care that you can and want to provide for someone else. Obviously crucial to a stable relationship, but also very important for just having a good time. Most people don't want to have sex with someone who won't help them get off, and it's not fun to have sex with someone who doesn't want you to pleasure them either."

"Now, once you've figured that out, you've got to understand power." A touch of a growl crept into her voice on the last word. "Contrary to some rather nihilistic viewpoints, sex is not _all_ about power, but understanding power dynamics is a major aspect to having a positive sexual experience. Everyone falls somewhere along a spectrum of dominant and submissive, and I'm not talking about the kinky bondage shit here." Kristen and Fig cackled. The boys, who'd been listening with interest up to this point, refused to look at each other and blushed furiously.

"Can we talk about that?" Kristen pleaded.

"We're not going to." Machaira asserted.

"I would like to," Kristen restated. Machaira shook her head no.

"This is just a basic social structure that develops when people have sex, and it can differ from the normal social hierarchy they have outside of sex. Dominance isn't inherently better than submission or vice versa. Everyone is some combination of the two and responds to them differently. Understanding how dominant or submissive you are relative to the other person helps you kind of guide the encounter along in a direction you both enjoy. Also, how do you express power? Either a dominant or submissive humanoid could express their feelings by working hard to give their partner pleasure. And, in most cases, people switch dominant and submissive positions at different points during sex. Generally speaking, one person is dominant for a majority of the time, but they do flip flop. And neither is right or wrong. It's sexy to have someone fall apart under your hands and beg for release. And it's exciting to have the person who's been following your lead suddenly flip you onto your back and take charge, as long as you're communicating and all of that. Just, figure yourself out and try to get a feel for how the other person compares, and the whole process will be smoother, okay?"

"Which are you?" Kristen asked hurriedly. Machaira's face fell into a flat 'unimpressed cat' expression as she slowly straightened her posture, ears pointing up and whiskers rotating forward.

"Pardon?" The rogue asked quietly. Kristen stiffened a bit, moistening her lips.

"Um, are you, uh, dominant or, ah, submissive," the cleric clarified, trailing away into a mumble. Yellow, unblinking eyes looked into Kristen's as Machaira slowly reclined in her chair, one arm thrown over the back. Her mane rose just a little.

"I am always the alpha female." Machaira informed Kristen evenly, growl adding a bass note to her accent. Adaine's jaw dropped. Kristen swallowed and nodded, seemingly unable to look away.

"You're always the alpha female?" Fig challenged, sitting up and thumping her oyster glass on the table, wafting the smell toward Adaine. The tabaxi slowly turned to face her, meeting the tiefling's belligerent expression with one of utter calm. Her eyes had lost most of their humanoid expression, hardening into cool, predatory assurance.

"Yep." Adaine quietly placed her hands in her lap at the single syllable.

"Okay," Fig sat back in her chair and took a sip of booze. Machaira smirked and giggled. The bard joined in a moment later. The boys, who had frozen fearfully throughout the exchange, laughed along a little nervously. Fabian seemed especially on edge. The rogue waved her hand through the air toward Fig as they snickered, dismissing her own power play. The weird thing was that Adaine recognized the alpha energy; Machaira exerted it all the time, but never before on a member of their party. Strangely, Adaine didn't find it threatening. Her friend was fairly easy going and quiet, usually allowing Adaine or another party member to take the lead without complaint. If she was honest, the high elf wanted to see a bit more of this side of her.

"At any rate," Machaira continued, returning her attention to Kristen. "That's what you think about before you even try to fuck. Next, you need to think about what exactly you're looking for from the other person. Biggest life lesson: start small, especially in the beginning. It's better to start with lighter stuff, helps foster a stronger relationship. If you always jump straight to fucking, it messes with your head. There's going to be times when you just want to get fucked, but never start there. Make sure you actually like the other person first. Also, keep in mind that everyone is a bad lay their first few times. Everyone has misconceptions on what they think sex is going to be like. So, take your first few opportunities to just make out, feel each other up, maybe grind a bit. It really helps get a better idea about how you personally like to do it. Remember, sex is a dialogue, so consider how loud you have to make the message. If you want to make a strong statement about how you feel, maybe cuddling and foreplay will do it. If it's your first big statement to someone, trying to fuck might do more harm than good."

Fabian and Riz shifted about uncomfortably. They didn't want to leave, but they also couldn't look directly at Machaira. Gorgug and Fig listened quietly, occasionally nodding along and passing Fig's flask between them. Kristen was staring at the scout with huge eyes, drinking in everything she said. The cleric would slowly lean over the table toward Machaira, realize what she was doing, and straighten up before beginning to lean forward again. For her part, Machaira seemed completely at ease, gesturing with her hands as she calmly advised the human. For the first time, Adaine realized the tabaxi was profoundly mature for her age. Machaira really knew what she was talking about here, and Adaine's vague, nervous, uncertain ideas about sex felt childish by comparison. This was so much better than the stiff, uncomfortable, hypothetical lecture her parents had rattled off.

"If you're looking for a one-night stand, the situation is a bit looser," Machaira swept on. "Everyone needs to, ah, scratch an itch now and again." Fig snorted with laughter, and the rogue smirked. Adaine blushed. She'd never seen Machaira like this before, and the high elf was fascinated by it. "But the best sex is with someone you know and respect and who respects you in turn. A good partner should be able to read when you want further contact and when you don't. A good partner doesn't necessarily want the same things as you but can communicate their desires while respecting your boundaries and insecurities. Patience is key because it's never going to go perfectly: someone's going to slip off the bed, or fart, or get scared and need a second to breathe and reconsider. If you can't be patient and wait for your partner to be comfortable, you shouldn't have sex period. The best sex is with someone who is concerned about you and with whom you share an intimate bond outside of the bedroom, or wherever you want to do it."

"Have you ever had that?" Fig asked. Machaira's smirk got a little sad.

"Most of the people I had sex with were bastards," she reminded them. "I was using them as much as they were using me. It was super unhealthy all the way around, which is why I stopped. But it wasn't all bad. There were one or two I thought I shared something special with. There was this aasimar boy…" Machaira trailed off, eyes glazing over slightly. Her expression was caught somewhere between the affectionate smile Adaine had come to adore and wistful longing that made the wizard want to hug her.

"What happened?" Kristen demanded. "Did you guys, you know, do it?" The rogue nodded. "Why did you split up?" Machaira sighed.

"When I met him, we'd been raiding the same marauding orc army and decided to work together. We made a pretty good team. And he was just gorgeous. He was a little older than I was but only by a year or two. He had a way of making me laugh even when I didn't want to, but he took our job seriously. Night after night we attacked the horde, thinking we could take down the whole army one orc at a time. Gods, we were naïve. After a few weeks, the orcs razed a little town nestled in a valley. We were powerless to do anything more than watch the smoke. By the time it was safe for us to investigate, the town didn't exist anymore and the army was long gone. Afterward we just kind of drifted into the next village. We rented a room together at the first inn we found. He kissed me on the head and promised everything would be better in the morning. He walked into the bathroom just before bed, and after a minute I heard a thud. He had killed himself. He couldn't live with what we had witnessed, and I wasn't enough to keep him grounded. I ran out into the woods in a panic. "

Kristen's eager grin turned to horrified distress. Gorgug, Riz, and Fabian, who'd been wincing from the beginning of the story, stilled and stared between each other, discomfort deepened to shock. Fig slowly offered Machaira her flask, but the tabaxi waved it away. Adaine reached out and took her hand.

"It's been a long time, guys," she told them quietly. "I'm at peace with what happened. At the time I was devastated, of course, but life moves on. I could spend my whole life grieving, or I can let the dead lie." She smiled that affectionate smile again, a little less sad than before. "I've found other people worth loving, and there is no such thing as a soulmate, of that I am certain." Adaine followed the curve of her lips, riveted as they uncurled from their thin, feline position to resemble a more humanoid shape.

"Did you love him?" Adaine asked quietly. Machaira weaved her muzzle back and forth a bit.

"Difficult question to answer," she admitted. "I liked him. We were certainly friends. There was respect between us, and joy, at least until the last few days. But I was so desperate for attention that I pretended lots of my early lovers liked me. It took me a long time to properly understand what love is. Our relationship was so focused on sex, it's hard to say if we could love without it. I guess that's one of my better takeaways from those early mistakes: the best lover is the one who's just happy to be there with you, the one who's as content to just sit and talk as they are to fuck." She shook her head slowly. "If I had a choice, I'd rather have any one of you in my life than him."

The tabaxi looked about the table with that smile so warm it seeped down to the soul. When she turned toward Adaine, Machaira squeezed her hand and released her. Her tail flicked up to wrap about the wizard's leg for a second before whisking away. Their little touches had become a welcome part of her day. When one of them was in a sour mood and didn't want to socialize, Adaine missed the physical contact terribly. The rogue was such a warm presence in her life, but the diviner hadn't considered that she might have shown such affection to someone else, perhaps even more freely. Adaine wasn't sure how that thought made her feel until she met that golden gaze properly. Machaira always meant what she said, and she'd just told Adaine that their party meant more to her than her old lover. Adaine relaxed and returned the smile.

Adaine swore that Kristen actively tried to kill the mood sometimes.

"How do I get a girl to come home with me?" she demanded bluntly. Fig and Riz burst into laughter. Machaira rolled her eyes and chuckled, turning back to the cleric to pick up the conversation.

"That depends on the girl," she answered. "Pickup lines can work sometimes, but I wouldn't suggest using them. Just be yourself and see if you click. Confidence is key. Oh, pro tip: when you want things to get steamy, don't go straight for the genitals or tits. The sexiest thing you can do is just touch someone all over. Rub along their arms and shoulders and legs and back, smooth and gentle. Kiss them a lot, and I mean actually kiss them, don't _only_ make out. And once they relax and kind of get into it, kiss their neck. That, more than anything, is how you escalate the situation. As long as they can be sexually attracted to you, that will work. On that note, keep in mind some people just won't want to do it. People aren't all attracted to the same races and types, so sometimes it just won't happen, and you need to move on."

"How do you pick up girls?" Kristen asked. Fig snickered. Muffled laughter rose from under Riz's chair where the goblin had sunk to the floor to avoid the conversation. Fabian tried and failed to feign disinterest.

"That, ah, is, um, probably something I shouldn't tell you," Machaira mumbled, looking toward the ceiling. In her attempt to avoid eye contact, the tabaxi instead offered a great view of ruby blush blooming under her white throat fur. Though not a new sight, Adaine found the image strangely appealing right then. "I, uh, didn't exactly flirt with people. I kinda, just, seduced them or offered it on a platter. Again, not a healthy lifestyle."

"Teach me that," Kristen rushed, slamming her palms onto the table. Fabian and Gorgug started sliding under the table to join Riz while Adaine and Fig laughed.

"No," Machaira refused. "I know you don't want to hear this, but that is not how you should start a romance. And you should get a real relationship under your belt before you start having one night stands, or it'll mess you up." The boys peeked up over the table to make sure the conversation was safe before they took their seats again. Fig quickly stopped laughing and sat straight, studying Machaira carefully.

"Are you against having sex?" The tiefling asked. "Just for yourself, I mean, obviously not for others." The scout propped her muzzle on one hand, eyes narrowed in contemplation. The red darkened on her throat and traveled up to her cheeks. Adaine found herself following the spread of color a bit too closely and looked away, feeling her own face heat up.

"No, I'm not against sex," she decided after a bit. "I'm against the way I used to go about sex. I'm trying to avoid just, ah, fucking around with whoever because I feel like it. If I'm going to have sex, I want to feel good about it. I want to be with someone I trust. If I'm going to fuck someone, it needs to be someone I'm okay… letting down my walls around. I just… whenever I do get back in there, so to speak, I'm going to have a lot of pent up nerves and insecurity. I need to know that I'm safe, emotionally, to freak out a little. And I want my next time to be… a gift for a lover instead of a contract with a partner. I don't want to use someone to feel better, I want to show someone that I… well, I don't see that happening anytime soon." Machaira stared at the table, ears flat and tail swishing across the floor. Adaine bit her lip. She wanted to reach out and pat her friend on the shoulder, but something held her back. Adaine knew that she shouldn't be nervous to comfort her friend, but she was. Fig narrowed her eyes and nodded, glancing surreptitiously at the high elf.

"What's your favorite position?" Kristen blurted just as Fabian opened his mouth to speak. Machaira glanced over and arched an eyebrow. Fabian groaned, Riz and Fig laughed, and the serious moment was over once more.

"Lying on my back or straddling the other person while facing them," Machaira answered easily. "I used to like it from behind, but my back is badly scarred. I feel really exposed and uncomfortable with people staring at it, especially if I can't see their expression. I also like to hold and kiss my mate." Adaine instinctively tensed at the word _mate_.

"Let's do something else!" Fabian half yelled half pleaded.

"Agreed," Riz laughed.

"Seconded," Machaira chimed in, raising a hand.

"But I still have questions," Kristen objected. Everyone had a good chuckle as they settled in to watch a movie. Adaine sat next to Machaira, but she couldn't make herself look directly at the tabaxi. Arms crossed around her knees, the wizard felt hyper-sensitive to the rogue's presence next to her. Machaira didn't remark on her sudden defensiveness but didn't try to touch her either, which disappointed Adaine further. The feeling became exasperated when Fig grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Fabian, Kristen, and herself, smushing them into a warm mound.

"Are you okay?" Machaira murmured lowly after about an hour. "You seem a little… uncomfortable. I'm sorry if the conversation early was, uh, awkward for you." Adaine glanced over to see Machaira's whiskers and ears held flat against her head. But the scout's eyes were soft with concern for her, and Adaine felt her pulse rise.

"I, um, I guess," she muttered. "It was really interesting though. I, um, learned a lot. Thanks for, you know, sharing. It, uh, couldn't have been super easy for you, either. Not that you, ah, looked, uh, at all uncomfortable." Her voice descended into mumbling as she shrank inward. Machaira studied her with a touch of hurt almost lost in worry. She whispered an apology and turned her attention back to the movie. Adaine reached out and took her hand. The tabaxi glanced over, surprised, and smiled, giving her a squeeze. Adaine's nerves drained away.

In minutes she was cocooned in Machaira's arms and legs, snuggled against her chest. The rogue patiently allowed her to play with the scales of her jacket, gently stroking Adaine's hair. Now that she was cozy, Adaine quietly basked in the attention. Her previous anxiousness seemed silly. Her friend was a complex person with new layers still waiting for the wizard to discover. Adaine realized she was looking forward to the next unexpected bout of sharing. She wanted to learn everything about the tabaxi. But for now, she would just enjoy her presence. Pushing aside the half-understood emotions from earlier, Adaine nestled against Machaira, content to let the murmurs of her friends blend with the movie sound, all of it underscored by the low, soothing rumble of a purr beneath her.

"**No, you're her dad!" – Gorgug to Jawbone immediately after hearing Tracker call Jawbone her uncle.**

Karaoke was Fig's idea, of course. Who else could possibly convince them to go back to the Black Pit? Though, in her defense, it turned out to be okay. While the main room of the Black Pit was still a cacophony of nightmare sounds, the Moon Room had forgone a band for karaoke night, so it was a bit quieter. Fig was on stage every second or third song and had become so popular among the audience that people would leave the main room just to hear her sing. Multiple tables bought her drinks until even the tiefling's super tolerance started to give way. While Fig was smart enough not to take a drink directly from someone, she had no problem doing six shots immediately after the bartender poured them. Kristen, who was very disappointed that Tracker wasn't here tonight, ordered something at random and got absolutely sloshed within half an hour. Gorgug and Riz took it upon themselves to watch over the girls, a task they were really, really bad at as Fig and Kristen literally climbed over them to stumble back to the mic and flirt with strangers. Gorgug was also hampered by Fig dragging him off to sing with her every other time she went on onstage.

Adaine snickered at the antics of the ungainly quartet, leaning back against Machaira. The tabaxi chuckled and put her arm around Adaine. The wizard was still afraid and uncomfortable and overwhelmed here, but her friends made excellent buffers when they weren't on a stressful mission. Twice people came up to harass Adaine or Fig, so Fabian and Machaira beat the shit out of them while onlookers cheered. The fuckers in the crowd got the message and backed off, leaving the somewhat less sleazy flirters to try their luck. But Machaira and Fabian were more than intimidating enough to keep them from being more than a nuisance, especially when Adaine cuddled up to the tabaxi so they had to go through her first.

Machaira had been weirdly distant for the past few days. She insisted that nothing was wrong but shied away when Adaine tried to touch her. While Machaira remained just as supportive and friendly and open as she always was, Adaine couldn't help but feel a bit hurt. There was some wall in the scout's head that she couldn't seem to get past, and the high elf hated it. When they got to the Pit, Adaine downed her first drink to try and drown her nerves, and a guy almost twice her age immediately tried to hit on her. The high elf couldn't seem to find a way to get the guy to understand the word 'no' until a growling Machaira stepped between them. Apparently last time they were here Machaira and Riz had earned some serious notoriety among the various thugs that came to the Pit to party, a reputation the rogue enforced when she knocked Adaine's creeper flat. The incident seemed to have broken down whatever wall Machaira had because she'd kept her tail around Adaine's waist ever since.

The high elf nursed her third drink of the night, nuzzling Machaira's shoulder with the back of her head. She had found that the overwhelming bombardment of noise and flashing lights was easier to endure when she was buzzed. It was also easier to enjoy cuddling with her tabaxi without caring who saw. A half-elf dude with a blue ponytail started swaggering up to their table, eyes fixed on Adaine. Machaira turned to face him and curled her lip, baring a few extra teeth. The dude stalled until one of his friends whispered something in his ear, and they both backed off. Machaira growled lowly and rested her jaw against Adaine's temple, rumble softening to a momentary purr as she tightened her one-arm hold on the elf. Adaine hummed happily.

Adaine knew her friend's behavior was possessive, but she also knew that the rogue was putting on a display for the people around them. If these adult men wanted to harass the elf girl in tight jeans, they had to confront the tabaxi that killed three werewolves without a weapon last time she was here. And, honestly, she liked it. Machaira hadn't stepped in to stand up to Adaine's creeper until the wizard was teetering on a panic attack. She knew that if she asked, the rogue would back off immediately. But the diviner had zero desire to lose her living pillow and bastard shield. Adaine gulped half her drink, sighing as it pleasantly burned her throat on the way down. Machaira chuckled, and Adaine tilted her head back a bit to meet a yellow gaze that warmed her better than the alcohol did. Fig finished her sixth solo song to yet another round of thunderous applause led by the rest of the party. The bard bowed and staggered back to their table, the giggling girl shadowed by Gorgug's hulking figure.

"So, okay, okay," Fig began, slurring a bit and leaning heavily on the table with both hands. "So, so, there's another person who's, who's gonna sing a song, and then, an' then we go again. But not me this time." Fig reached out for her drink. Gorgug tried to pull it away, and she lunged over the table to grab the glass, pushing the half-orc aside even as she clung to his shirt for balance. The tiefling downed her drink and smacked her lips.

"I'm sorry, Fig, but I'm done for the night," Fabian groaned. "I'll stay if you want to sing, but you will not convince me to get back on stage."

"Not even, even for another duet with Riz?" Fig teased. The two boys hung their heads in mortification as the others laughed. That had to have been the best part of the night. While the boys had a lot of fun with it at the time, they deeply regretted acquiescing to Fig's request upon learning the bard recorded their performance. Adaine's off-key duet with Kristen hadn't been half as funny. The cleric in question mumbled something and snored on the table. Half an hour ago she had walked up to a hot dwarf, asked her what her name was, told the dwarf that god wasn't real, gotten embarrassed, and run off. Every few minutes Riz checked to make sure her pulse and breathing was normal, but the party had agreed to let her sleep off the alcohol and shame.

"I'm good, too," Adaine passed. "But you're really working the crowd, Fig."

"Thanks, I know," Fig preened, snickering. "But we still have one more person who needs to get on stage." Fig grinned evilly over Adaine's shoulder. The wizard looked up to see Machaira's face fall.

"Oh no," she refuted. "No, no, no. I am not going up there."

"Oh, come on," Fig pleaded. "You actually know the words to this one: I got them to hold your favorite song! Please, you're the only one that hasn't gone yet."

"That is true," Fabian agreed. "If we had to go up there, you should too."

"Sing!" Gorgug yelled, propping up Fig by one arm.

"What do you have to be nervous about?" The bard asked. "Half of the people here are werewolves, and they're all terrified that you're going to kill them. Besides, you need to get out of your comfort zone once in a while."

"Please," Adaine begged. "I wanna hear you sing, even if you're bad."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," the rogue sassed.

"You're welcome," she answered sincerely.

"I went up there, and they didn't boo me off the stage." Riz reminded her. "So, you'll be fine. Besides, you're outvoted."

"What happened to the friends that supported my cowardice," Machaira lamented.

"They never existed, and we're gonna peer pressure the shit outta you," Fig informed her, reaching over to grab Machaira by the hand and tug on her. "You're going up there!" Adaine sat up, and Machaira's eyes brightened with hope that turned to dismay as the wizard helped Fig pull her out of the booth.

"Traitor," she accused Adaine.

"Go sing." the high elf countered. Machaira growled. Adaine smiled. Fig giggled and gave her a little shove toward the stage just as the last song wrapped up. As the others sat back down, the rogue shot one last pleading look that did not earn their sympathy. Machaira closed her eyes, and at first Adaine thought she just wouldn't go. Then the tabaxi schooled her face, taking a few seconds to even out her breathing. When she opened her eyes and smirked, Adaine briefly wondered who this person was.

Machaira was normally quietly self-assured, but the expression she wore now was subtly different: not arrogant but sultry. It was a teasing grin blended with her anticipation of a fight. There was something dangerous but very much inviting about her current expression that made Adaine's breath quicken. When the scout turned and sauntered toward the stage, each step impossibly high for such a short girl, Adaine's gaze fixated on her legs. Why hadn't she noticed them before? Machaira didn't so much walk on stage as she ascended, coy grin tugging at her lips. She picked up the microphone and strode back to the middle of the stage, hips swaying and tail curling about behind her like a kite in the breeze. Adaine vaguely recognized the song that began to play, but the gleam in those familiar yellow eyes was new: predatory but pleased, powerful but playful. Machaira's tail rippled slowly behind her, waving in time with the instrumentals.

"At first I was afraid, I was afraid," Machaira began, putting her free hand delicately to her throat, the touch of a purr woven into the melody. "Down in the darkness I was crawling through this mortal race. I heard the voices through the dark, oh, oh-whoa-oh-oh-a-oh, so I beat my fist against my head against my heart." Machaira put her hand to her head and swung her skull back and forth before straightening. She struck her sternum and slowly bent her legs, shoulders and body swaying very slightly from side to side as she sank down.

"Hey-ho, hear the sound! We are the under-ground. Hey-ho, rising up! We're not afraid of fighting." Machaira leapt straight as she sang along, stance immediately changing to bold and open. Her boots pounded the stage along with the rhythm, unsheathed claws gleaming red in the flashing light as she spread the fingers on her free hand. Her voice no longer purred but growled, echoing through the Moon Room.

"I've finally found my place. I paint the war paint on my face, and I'm ready to give – whatever it takes. Standing at the edge of the fire! Fighting for the will to survive. I feel it burning under my skin. And I'm back on my feet again." Machaira slid both hands up and across her breasts before unfolding her arms down toward the party. She mimed trailing war paint from her brow down past her eyes and onto her cheeks. The scout leapt forward to dance on the very rim of the stage, legs jumping up to cross over each other in midair but landing akimbo, somehow maintaining an aggressive, dominant bearing on a space no more than five centimeters wide. Swaying in time with the music, Machaira lowered herself to a kneel, hands sliding enticingly over her sides until her fingers slid under the front of her waistband up to the knuckle. With her muzzle tipped back, they could only see a gleam of her eyes until the rogue leapt up and back on the last line and slammed her boot down with a bold stare, startling half the audience. During a brief delay of instrumental the tabaxi did a double spin in place, tail curling perfectly around her before continuing to tap out the beat. The tabaxi's belligerent, rhythmic stomping and wide stance were completely at odd with the way she drew her thighs together on each impossibly high step.

"This is the feeling. I can't believe it. My heart is bleeding out. Now, I'm dan-ger-ous." Machaira slowly slid one leg up along the other before taking a step back toward the front of the stage. She tossed her head back, hand coming up to fist in her jacket over her left breast. But, as she slunk down to her knees, her voice once again morphed to a sinister growl, eyes flashing with the anticipation before a fight.

"Feeding the fire, higher and higher, rising up, rising up. Now, I'm dan-ger-ous." Machaira swayed as she stood, palms sliding up her legs and over her chest, arms wrapping behind her head as she drove her fingers up through her ruff until her arms were entwined over her head, only to pull them down into a fighting stance on the last verse. Her eyes blazed like wildfires through the dim room, reflecting off of drink glasses dozens of times over around the audience. Claws unsheathed, mane cresting above her, ivory fangs bared, the tabaxi was a fearsome sight even for the rough patrons of the Black Pit. The tabaxi continued in this vein as the verses repeated themselves, strobe lights glinting off her eyes and teeth.

Honestly, Machaira couldn't even come close to matching Fig's magnetism, vocal skills, or rhythm, but then who could? Even so, Adaine was entranced. What Machaira lacked in musical ability, she made up for in presence. Every movement was a blend of seduction and dangerous power. She made herself inviting and threatening at the same time. The onlookers wanted to approach her but were scared to do so, and it made the rogue an object of fearful desire. The elf guessed this was an act her friend once used to lure pedophiles into her traps, but it also represented the tabaxi just as Adaine knew her, only more… sensual. As someone who was allowed and even encouraged to touch Machaira on a regular basis, the display was at once intimidating and spellbinding.

During a longer instrumental, Machaira turned her back on the audience, hips swaying dangerously as she prowled over to a wooden stool in the middle of the stage. She sat on the stool, tail curling around and to the side, almost beckoning. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, spreading her legs unnecessarily wide for the briefest moment as she swung them around to recross her legs. Claw tips barely parted the fine fur of her face and throat as she trailed her fingers down from her lips over her pulse, leaning back to push out her chest as she did so. Her keratin hooks caught the collar of her jacket and began to slowly pull it down, head tilting back, jaws barely parted. Adaine stopped breathing, zeroed in on the rogue's hand as her dark vision picked up the top of a collarbone.

Then the music picked up, and Machaira rolled backwards off of the stool, tail twisting to perform a full backflip midair. Before she finished landing, the scout swept out one foot and hooked a leg of the stool. She swung the stool behind her to skid all the way against the back wall with a clatter. The tabaxi prowled toward the audience during the last verses, eyes searing with a fire that Adaine longed to understand and partake in, a strength that was freely shared with her every day.

"This is the feeling. I can't believe it. My heart is bleeding out. Now, I'm dan-ger-ous. Feeding the fire, higher and higher, rising up, rising up. Now, I'm dan-ger-ous. Rising up, rising up, now I'm dan-ger-ous." The last notes were growled so lowly that cocktails shivered in their glasses as Machaira smiled coyly, teeth gleaming in, what for many, had been a final warning. The tabaxi leapt off the stage and strode toward her party amid a hearty applause. A lanky drow in skintight black jeans reached out for her arm, and Machaira didn't even look sideways as she slashed him across the chest, tearing through his fake-leather jacket, unbuttoned button-up, and T-shirt to spray blood across a leering dwarf next to him. While a few onlookers stopped clapping and stiffened with fear, others hooted louder and cheered, though all drew back before the scout.

_This_ was the power of self-confidence, and it made directly for Adaine with a sheepish smile and a violent shiver. The party whooped and praised Machaira just as they had for everyone else. Kristen snored and muttered something about a sexy corn.

"Gods, I can't believe I did that," Machaira rushed, reaching out to hold Adaine again. The elf started, flinched away, then dove back toward her friend when the rogue went to pull back, holding Machaira's arm in a secure wrap around her body. "You okay?" Machaira asked, smile giving way to concern. "You look a little flushed. Should I get you some water, maybe walk with you to the bathroom?"

"No, I, uh, I'm good," Adaine managed in a small voice. "I, um, liked your, uh, show. That was great." She smiled, and Machaira smirked back, glowing with pleasure at the little compliment.

"I haven't done anything like that in years," she admitted. "I could go the rest of my life without that kind of attention. But I don't mind putting on a show now and again for the right people." The tabaxi blushed and grinned just a bit. Adaine murmured something that could have been 'oh really' or 'thank you' or 'please'. She really wasn't sure which. The scout's smiled widened, and Adaine had to look down from Machaira's golden gaze to the tiny space between them. As much as the wizard liked the tabaxi's jacket, she wondered what Machaira would look like without it. Wow, okay, Machaira was right, she really was flushed.

They left not long after that. It was already late; as in, almost two a.m. late. Adaine had a high alcohol tolerance, but she was still a little unsteady and had to hold onto Machaira's waist for support. The elf didn't know why but she kept noticing how snuggly they fit together or how comforting Machaira's tail around her own waist felt, little things that she acknowledged on some level but had never really thought about. It took only a little bit of wheedling to convince Machaira to share a Lyft home, and even less to convince her that Adaine could in fact stay awake long enough to receive a 'safely home' text. As happy as she was to have the rogue with her a while longer, Adaine found it difficult to look her in the eyes and kept blushing when she did. Machaira was clearly worried but didn't pester her any further than a very direct, "Are you feeling okay?"

Adaine said yes but wasn't sure that it was true. Machaira's performance was engraved on her brain. The wizard mentally recalled every move and twist her body made, every shift on the spectrum from seductive to dangerous. All of it was sensual; all of it was predatory. But the girl who held her on the car ride home and place the back of her fingers along Adaine's brow to check her temperature wasn't rapacious. She was kind. When the front door shut behind her, Adaine felt cold seep through her lovely new outfit and the lingering burn of a strong drink down to her bones. She wanted to be warm again.

Adaine wanted _her_.

The thought dogged the high elf as she lay atop her sheets. It wasn't until tonight that she realized she had never really seen Machaira's body, that she knew nothing of her figure. It wasn't until tonight that she realized that she wanted to know. The tabaxi had been her best friend since she started Aguefort. She liked the bond between them, liked that Machaira didn't push too hard but was always ready to receive her again. Adaine loved the emotional support Machaira offered and the quiet, simple moments of companionship between them. She thrilled at each new discovery of the rogue's past and present, even those that left her sick with worry for the other girl. She'd learned to embrace touch as a simple expression of affection. But tonight… tonight she wasn't sure if what she felt was friendship.

Because before tonight she had never considered her friend sensual, much less sexy. She knew the scout had had sex, even knew about her heat cycle, but she had never considered her a sexual being before. She'd never wanted to see under the jacket before. She had never thought Machaira ugly, never thought her desirous. But… no, this had to be the alcohol talking, right? It was the alcohol that whispered that she was at least curious to see. It was the alcohol that put the thought in her head that Machaira's strength was alluring, that her perseverance was admirable, and that her affection was lovely. Three cocktails were responsible for the longing to keep Machaira closer, to peer deeper into this woman who had changed her life so wonderfully, to study the predator that would not harm her. Fig's influence led to the idea that she craved to deepen their intimacy, and the lingering flavor of a black-tie martini reminded her that her vague desire to touch what she had never seen wasn't her own.

But as she fell asleep (before Machaira texted – she hated to be wrong), the high elf couldn't help but draw parallels between her relationship with Machaira and their discussion about sex just under a week ago. While the thought didn't go any further, certainly not into any suggestive imagery, Adaine did consider how much happier she'd be coming home to the tabaxi welcoming her in with a purr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, Sisterly Showdown is approaching, and I will be taking commentator votes on whose perspective it will be written in.


	21. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 7: The Best Day Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Machaira's nat one perception check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second most anticipated chapter of the series, at least for me to write. I'll admit I cried a bit trying to write this. But it still could use some work, so please, FEEL FREE TO COMMENT! Criticisms are as welcome as compliments. This was difficult to write, and I will no doubt do another (9th) round of editing on it in the coming days.

"And done," Machaira said, helping Adaine lower the bar. "One more set, and you're finished for the day." Adaine glared up at her friend. It was the last day of their first semester. Even though she had gotten better with her reading and writing, Machaira had been worried about passing her mid-term exams. In trying to encourage her, Adaine had bet that if Machaira got a ninety percent or above on every exam then the elf would go to the gym with her, something Machaira asserted she should do regardless of her wizard class because it would help her feel more confident. Adaine did have faith in her friend, but if she was honest, she never would have expected the tabaxi to get a ninety-one on her only written test. Despite a semester of practice, Machaira's reading and writing was still several years behind the rest of the student population.

"No, I'm done," Adaine grunted. "I quit. I can't lift this thing again." To her credit, Machaira had taken it pretty easy on her. The exercises they went through were much lighter than anything the paladins and barbarians were doing, and the tabaxi took the time to judge whether Adaine really was moving too much weight or if she was just complaining. But they'd been here for almost an hour, and the wizard was tired and sweaty. Her arms were sore, and she wanted to go home.

"Last set," Machaira repeated. "After this, you're really done."

"I can't," Adaine whined, praying her friend would have mercy on her. Machaira stared straight down at her and smiled. Currently Adaine was lying on a workout bench underneath a metal bar with a miniscule weight on either end. Machaira stood at her head holding the bar. The tabaxi had been doing every exercise alongside Adaine the entire time and had barely sweated at all, which was totally unfair.

"If you do this last set, I'll buy you Basrar's," Machaira tempted. "I've been saving up for the holidays." Adaine whined. She didn't want Machaira to know that she was so easily bought.

"I can make ice cream any time I want with my jacket," she protested. The rouge smirked.

"Can your jacket make _Basrar's_ shakes?"

"I hate you," The elf groaned. Machaira chuckled, looking warmly down her muzzle at the whiny elf. Adaine already felt herself forgiving her friend for this transgression.

"You got this," she promised. "Ten reps." She lowered the bar, and Adaine reluctantly took it, straining to raise her arms. "One." Machaira counted, cupped hands hovering under the bar to catch it should Adaine's arms give out. Though the wizard's limbs shook and burned, Machaira's expression was soft with confidence in her. The high elf fixed on those yellow eyes, sweat rolling down her face until the tabaxi's smile widened and she took the bar from Adaine. "Ten."

"Uhhhggg," she groaned, arms flopping off to the side dramatically. Machaira huffed and held up an hand to pull her up. Adaine stared at her with dramatic helplessness, and the scout rolled her eyes. Machaira wrapped an arm around her shoulders and heaved Adaine to her feet, replacing the bar the wizard had struggled and sweated to lift back on the rack with one hand.

"Trust me, you never want to exercise, but you always feel better after a workout," Machaira told her.

"I'll feel better after Basrar's," Adaine corrected her. Machaira chuckled, and the girls continued to banter as made their way out of the school gym until they reached the front door, at which point Adaine pulled up short. Winter was in full swing, and they'd had snow for most of the past two weeks, a fact that had Machaira spitting nails. But today had been a rare warm snap with temperatures rising just above freezing, which meant everything was soaking wet from snow melt. A strong wind and a faint drizzle topped off a perfect mix of cold and miserable, and Adaine's sweaty clothes offered almost no resistance from the elements.

"Nope, nope, not going," the elf declared. "There is no way I'm walking out there, not even for Basrar's." Machaira tilted her head to study her, expression pensive. The tabaxi's relaxed confidence slowly faded. She bit her lip, and Adaine found her gaze momentarily latched onto the action. Her whiskers flicked forward, back, and forward again, tail twitching behind her. After a long moment of indecision that the elf didn't fully understand, Machaira's golden eyes hardened with resolve.

"Here." Machaira unbuttoned the top button of her jacket, and Adaine stopped thinking entirely. Machaira had only ever taken her boots off in front of the group, like, six times total. She never even removed her bracelet around other people. So to Adaine, her friend might as well have been giving a strip tease. She stared, unblinking, as each intricately carved button was undone, and the tabaxi shrugged off the garment. "Put this on. It'll block the wind and water." Machaira told her, holding out the jacket. Adaine gulped a tiny bit and mutely allowed her friend to bundle her up in the extra layer, too busy drinking in the new image before her.

Machaira's body was of course covered in fur, mottled tawny and brown across her arms and shoulders. The almost popping white fur of her throat faded to more of a silvery color down her collarbone toward her chest. Her coat was sleek and smooth, shining in the fluorescent gym lights so that her mottled black rosettes faded in and out of view as she moved. Adaine hadn't thought of fur as attractive before, but Machaira's coat covered and accentuated her shape nicely. The high elf already wanted to pet the newly revealed pelt. The fur on her arms and shoulders was a little longer than the fur on her head and neck, hairs rising and falling as she fluffed herself slightly against the sudden chill.

The elf couldn't help but think her friend would be less cold if she wore a real shirt. While Machaira was technically covered, the sleeveless vest under her jacket was far more risqué than anything Adaine would have expected her to wear. It was clearly a well-worn article and had been stitched up multiple times. Perhaps that was why it seemed so tight, adhering to the other girl like a second skin. When Machaira stretched up to secure the jacket around her shoulders, the vest rode up her stomach. Adaine's own stomach clenched as bit of skin and fur peeked through. Something about the motion was strangely enticing.

Why something so small short-circuited her brain so thoroughly, the wizard couldn't say, especially since Machaira's abdominals were visible through her vest and fur. Adaine could finally confirm that Machaira was absolutely ripped. Her arms rippled with definition that Adaine had felt but never actually seen. With every slight twist and turn, lean muscle pumped and turned under her coat. Machaira was well-built but lithe, as if every scrap of unnecessary fat and skin had been trimmed from her form, leaving only the essentials behind. Well, with one exception.

Adaine had never understood boys' fascination with breasts. She still didn't. But she found herself mesmerized but Machaira's cleavage anyway. The other girl wasn't exactly stacked, but her chest was larger than Adaine had thought. Not that she had thought about it before, of course, but the vest made it hard not to notice. The vest was clearly as relic from the rogue's more promiscuous days because the deep **V** trailed far enough down her sternum that Adaine blushed just to see it. Machaira very clearly was not wearing a bra, and the vest was tight enough that she probably didn't need one with her jacket on. Except now Adaine had her jacket, and Machaira's thinly clad form hid almost nothing. Adaine had never thought of muscles as feminine, but her lean, powerful build nicely complemented the effeminate curves of her hips and chest.

The tabaxi took a step back from Adaine, biting her lip again as she met the elf's wide stare. Her tail skittered about the floor, ears going back and whiskers pulling flat along her cheeks. With a jolt, Adaine stopped staring at the shape of her body long enough to notice the scars. How she had missed them in the first place was a mystery. The delicate flair of Machaira's collarbone had been visibly chipped in two places. Her arms were striped with the white marks of old weapon slashes. Her left forearm had so many scars that Adaine couldn't tell where one ended and another began. Jagged claw marks tore across the cleavage Adaine had been openly admiring for far too long. Machaira didn't try to cover herself, even as her tail lashed madly about behind her. She met Adaine's eyes evenly, clearly terrified, but resolute. However, as seconds dragged on, the light in Machaira's eyes dimmed. The rogue hunched her shoulders and crossed her arms under her chest, tail wrapping around her leg.

"I, uh, thought that might help keep you warm," she mumbled. "But, if you don't like it – "

"No!" Adaine practically yelled, turning heads across the lobby. "No," she repeated more quietly, rubbing the jacket sleeves. "I like it." She hadn't been paying attention to anything except Machaira's body up until now, but her jacket was very comfortable. Adaine wouldn't have thought it, but the wyvern scales formed a single, smooth plane on the inside. The jacket was a bit of a loose fit for Machaira, so it was fairly roomy for Adaine. But the sleeves were exactly the right length for her arms, and the hem of the jacket fell just to her waist. But as the elf rubbed the scaly material, smiling at her downcast friend, she realized Machaira might have been talking about something else entirely.

_I have a lot of scars… taboo… _Machaira_, it means that thing is brutish, stupid, ugly, unskilled… deformed…cursed… primitive… ugly… whore_. The tabaxi's words rolled about her head. Machaira wasn't just trying to keep her warm; she was opening herself to Adaine. She wanted to show that she trusted the elf. But the scout wasn't free of the stigmas that had dogged her life, and Adaine had been staring for much too long. Machaira was rapidly losing her nerve, wilting by the second as her scarred body was left on display.

"I love it." Adaine said firmly. With but a moment of hesitation, she placed a hand on Machaira's shoulder. The fur wasn't quite as soft there was it was on her face nor as long as her mane, but it was still silky and smooth. The desire to pet her more fully resurfaced. "Thank you, Machaira. That was very kind of you. I really, really appreciate this." A smile briefly flickered on the tabaxi's lips before vanishing. The nervous, awkward part of Adaine's brain told her to change the subject and keep moving, but she chose to ignore it, letting her gaze openly roam across Machaira's figure. Defined muscles, a narrow waist over wider hips, copious scars, and (Adaine would NEVER say this out loud) a very respectable rack combined with the face, with _the person_ she knew so intimately to form a wonderful image.

Machaira was humanoid but wild, feminine without being weak. She was damaged but powerful, and her body reflected that. It was a dumb way to articulate it, but Adaine thought Machaira's body looked natural: it reflected the tabaxi's life, who and what she was at her core. Machaira just looked… right. Adaine couldn't imagine her any other way. The rogue shuffled her feet a bit, tail lashing a little bit above the floor.

"You know, if this is all from going to the gym, I might have to come here with you more often," Adaine teased, hoping to reclaim some of her friend's confidence. Machaira twitched another grin, huffed, and smiled.

"No, but coming here once in a while helps," she admitted, finally relaxing. Her ears and tail flicked up, whiskers rotating forward and fur lying flat to better cover her scars and add a glossy sheen to her body. Her golden eyes relaxed a little as the wizard accepted her flawed appearance. Adaine's smile started to grow until movement behind Machaira caught her eye. Two bulky guys in gym clothes, a human and a tiefling, had stopped talking and begun appraising Machaira without the scout's notice. Oh, no. Nope. A powerful feeling of possessiveness seized her, and Adaine grabbed Machaira's hand and dragged her outside with only a passing glare for the teenage fighters. Machaira allowed herself to be led away with only a confused mewl. Her easy acquiescence, and increased distance from those boys, filled Adaine with no small sense of satisfaction. However, the high elf's protective territoriality dissipated as suddenly as it came when her toe dipped into a frigid puddle. Adaine yelped and hopped back, almost slipping on the wet stairs. Machaira caught her easily, hands gripping her biceps firmly but not painfully as the wizard skidded trying to maintain her balance.

"Here," Machaira chuckled, kneeling down and looking up at Adaine over her shoulder. "Hop on, I'll give you a lift." Adaine stared down at the tabaxi with big eyes.

"You're going to piggyback me all the way to Basrar's?" She asked skeptically. Machaira shrugged.

"Sure," she replied easily. "Can't have you get wet and cold." Her teasing was like a faint draft of warm air, harmless and soothing.

"You're not going to drop me, though, right?" Adaine asked nervously. Machaira smirked and cocked her head.

"If I thought I might, would I offer?" She countered. And like that Adaine was sold. Grinning, the high elf bent down and wrapped her arms around Machaira's neck, giving her an awkward bent-over hug. The tabaxi stood with a faint grunt and popped the wizard further up her back. Machaira wrapped Adaine's legs around her waist, and the diviner got the idea, hooking her legs over Machaira's hips and tightening her hold.

"Would you mind closing the top button on my jacket over my chest?" Machaira asked quietly. From her new position, Adaine had a lovely view of the red blooming under the white fur of her throat. Adaine wiggled about on Machaira's back until she extracted the jacket lapels from the space between them and wrapped it around Machaira's front. She carefully latched the top button, providing Machaira at least some modesty and keeping the two girls pressed flush against one another, something Adaine was perfectly content with. Machaira wrapped her arms under Adaine's legs and set off at an easy stroll.

Machaira basically supported her entire body and didn't so much as break a sweat, a fact that thoroughly impressed Adaine. The wizard actually went limp and lay against her back, letting the tabaxi carry her wherever she desired, hopefully to Basrar's. With her head snuggled into the crook of Machaira's neck, Adaine's nose was filled with the smell of clean water, plants, and Machaira's mild animal musk. The rogue had recently finished her heat cycle, and the elf had noticed that her scent became much more intense around that time. While far from a bad smell, Adaine was happy that Machaira was feeling better and her scent was softer. She nuzzled the scout, eliciting a purr and a nuzzle in return, feline head curving up and over Adaine's. The elf giggled, pleasantly buffeted by the broad skull and powerful neck.

Machaira didn't even seem inconvenienced as she carried Adaine, thick tail waving behind them to maintain her balance. The ride was smoother than it would have been if Adaine had walked by herself. Machaira's jacket was totally waterproof, so all she had to do was wiggle the collar of the jacket over her head, and the elf stayed perfectly dry. The wind sliced though her jeans, but the rest of her was immune to its chill. Machaira radiated so much heat that Adaine didn't think she'd ever be cold again. Her body ached from the workout, but even that began to fade to a dull throb as underused muscles eased down from the stress of the gym. She felt… looser, more relaxed and comfortable from the exercise and subsequent intimacy. All concerns drained from the diviner's body as Adaine snuggled against her friend, and the tabaxi chuffed happily. Adaine took that as permission and half-buried her face in the crook of Machaira's neck and mane, only peeking out to admire the rogue's physique.

Adaine's hands roamed over Machaira's arms and shoulders as they walked. While she was still divided on the attractiveness of fur, she very much liked the texture of it on her palm. There was also something about the feel of hard muscles sliding beneath her that Adaine enjoyed, letting her fingers wander across the rogue's body as she contemplated the sensation and scratching at Machaira's fur whenever she found a patch that needed it. The wizard had gotten good at finding the little patches of fur that needed to be ruffled and then smoothed back over for her friend to feel satisfied. Machaira shivered, vibrating Adaine with her.

"Are you cold?" The diviner asked, poking her head over Machaira's right shoulder to try and see her face. The rogue shook her head and took a sharp breath.

"A little, but this is… it's been years since I took off my jacket around anyone else," she confessed. "Longer since I let anyone else touch me like this. It's a little sensitive but not nearly as bad as my head was." Adaine nodded in understanding, purposefully tracing a scar around her bicep with one finger. Machaira sucked in a short breath.

"Should I stop?" she asked. Machaira shook her head.

"It's good, just… intense," she clarified. "Takes some getting used to. But I'm glad it's you here." She rush/mumbled, red creeping back onto her cheeks. Adaine nodded and deliberately retraced the same scar before hugging Machaira tightly, face hidden in her shoulder.

"Me too," she murmured. "Thank you for showing me."

"Anytime," Machaira murmured awkwardly. Adaine pressed the side of her head against Machaira's, and the tabaxi returned the gesture, a purr flaring at Adaine's mimicry. The action was a little rough, but plenty sweet and playful, just like Machaira herself. It made her feel special, appreciated. The wizard would have been happy to do this all day, but the ride was over all too soon. Adaine reluctantly slid to the ground, almost as loathe to return Machaira's jacket as she was to get off. Fortunately, the rogue didn't ask for it back as she took Adaine's hand and led the way towards the door. Adaine stuffed her other hand in the pocket of Machaira's jacket and cheerfully followed her inside.

"Hello, Basrar," Adaine greeted the djinn.

"Ah, my friends," he welcomed them, wide smile and bright eyes fixed over an expression of deep grief. "Ah, I am not sure that is appropriate attire for a family ice cream store." Adaine looked over just as Machaira crossed her arms over her chest. If it was cold outside, it was positively freezing inside Basrar's, and Machaira's vest was rather thin. The other girl blushed harder than Adaine had seen yet and stared at the floor, trying to tuck her fangs under a jacket she was no longer wearing.

"We'll take a corner booth, Basrar," Adaine announced firmly, leading Machaira toward the booth where they had spoked to Gorthalax. While she liked Basrar and understood where the djinn was coming from, she also wasn't about to let anything spoil this time with her best friend. Fortunately, the inclement weather kept most people away from the shop, and they claimed the giant booth unchallenged. Machaira was hunched over and shivering, ears flat and poofy tail flicking. "Do you want your jacket back?" Adaine reluctantly offered, hand twisting about in the pocket. Machaira shuddered, shook her head, and pulled Adaine onto her lap. The elf yelped slightly at the sudden motion.

"No, I don't want you to be cold," she mumbled, teeth chattering. "You can keep me warm." She wrapped her arms around Adaine's waist, and the wizard wriggled further back onto her lap, hands rubbing Machaira's forearms to try and warm her. Machaira buried her face in Adaine's back with a quiver. The elf knew that her friend wanted to use her as cover from judgmental djinns as much as a heat source, but Adaine was happy to oblige. She took the opportunity to continue inspecting Machaira's arms. While she loved ruffling her fur and petting it smooth again, as much for the resulting purrs as for the action itself, Adaine wanted a better look at some of her scars. She traced a long slash mark with her fingertips, quietly marveling at the fading fissure in the skin and tiny brush of fur stands against her fingers.

"What was this one from?" She asked. "This one that kind of – "

"Short sword," Machaira grunted. "Dwarf ducked around my knife and stabbed at me, missed my heart but cut my arm." Adaine couldn't see Machaira's face, but something in her tone made her pause.

"Do you not want me to touch you like this?" She asked. "Or not ask questions?" Adaine felt the rogue shake her head, face smushed into the wizard's back.

"I trust you," she mumbled. Adaine's hand stilled on Machaira's arm.

"Thank you," she murmured, leaning back against the tabaxi. Machaira was a decent bit shorter than Adaine, and with the elf sitting on her lap, the rogue's face was somewhere about the base of her shoulder blades. But Machaira managed to wiggle her head up onto Adaine's shoulder, yellow eyes blinking shyly up at the wizard with a mix of timidity and gratitude. Her tail flopped into Adaine's lap and wrapped around them, still fluffed to keep out the cold. Adaine smiled and languidly rubbed her hands up and down Machaira's arms, content with the quiet between them. Basrar came over, and they made their usual orders. Machaira pulled two gold pieces out of her jacket pocket, which Adaine was still wearing, and the two chatted idly while they waited.

"Do you want me to get off?" Adaine asked when their deserts arrived. Machaira shook her head no.

"Not unless you want me to let go," she answered. Adaine shook her head and tried to wiggle her butt between Machaira's thighs. The rogue scooched her legs apart, and Adaine plopped down between them, making it easier for Machaira to see over Adaine's shoulder. The wizard scooted back and reclined against her tabaxi pillow, who huffed and settled her chin on Adaine's shoulder more comfortably. The girls took their time with their ice cream, drawing out the moment and trying to stave off any unnecessary chills. Adaine asked to hear about more of Machaira's scars, and the scout explained that normally a scar across the arm was from a defensive wound while a cut running from the hand toward the elbow was an offensive scar, which was a handy way to identify a person's fighting style. Adaine played with Machaira's fur and scars the entire time, even once she had satisfied her curiosity. The elf realized to her slight embarrassment that she just liked to touch Machaira, but, fortunately, the tabaxi enjoyed the attention. At one point Machaira took a polished wooden comb out of the left pocket of her jacket; Adaine giggled as her friend accidently tickled her in the process.

"Hold still," Machaira ordered. She began to gently comb Adaine's hair, carefully untangling the knots that had built up at the gym and in the drizzly walk over. The wizard sighed appreciatively and closed her eyes. It felt nice to have Machaira take care of her, and the little tugs on her hair felt weirdly good, almost soothing. No one else had done this for her in… gods, she couldn't remember the last time someone took the time to brush her hair. The tabaxi was cautious not to pull too hard, and Adaine almost drifted into the light doze that passed for elven sleep, fingers absently tracing patterns in the fur on Machaira's arms and tail. She found a nick in the tip of Machaira's tail hidden beneath the fur and ran her fingertip through it a few times, quietly lamenting that her friend had been hurt so often.

When Machaira pronounced her task finished and replaced the comb in her jacket, Adaine cracked her eyes open and murmured a sleepy _thank you_. She reached around to scratch behind Machaira's ears, and the rogue bent her head forward over Adaine's shoulder, purring low and soft in her ear. With Machaira's chest pressed flush with her back, Adaine's body vibrated in sync with the deep rumbles. Adaine hummed contently and took a sip of her shake, kept cold by the terrible weather seeping through the windows, completely at odds with the warm bubble she found herself embraced within. She picked up Machaira's malt and held the straw up to her lips. Adaine took a moment to appreciate the smooth ivory of Machaira's fangs as the scout took a slow pull of her desert. She noticed that Machaira's sabers had tiny serrations on the back edge, so small that she never would have seen them if she wasn't so close.

Adaine realized that basically defined Machaira: you had to be close to her to see her properly, and over the past few months Adaine had grown close enough to see something beautiful. And here, with no rambunctious party or dangerous enemies or judgmental classmates or racist family, she could enjoy the tabaxi's company properly without fear of criticism.

Eventually they finished their ice cream, but Adaine abhorred the idea of getting up. Machaira didn't seem to be in a hurry either, so the girls lingered and talked about nothing for a while longer. Adaine stayed in Machaira's lap but turned to the side to face her better. Machaira kept her tail over Adaine's legs, and while the elf didn't pet Machaira she did rest her hands in the warm fluff when she wasn't gesturing. It was a different type of peace from their cuddling, but just as nice. They had been at Basrar's for just over an hour when Fig texted the group chat to invite, well, demand the party over to Gilear's place for takeout and a movie, their staple hangout option.

"Guess we should start heading over," Machaira said. "Strongtower is a good distance from here."

"We don't have to be there for more than an hour," Adaine objected. "I can call a Lyft, and we can stay here for a while longer."

"Oh, okay," Machaira replied, biting her lip a bit. "I, uh, was thinking I'd give you another piggyback ride, if you wanted. But it's fine, Lyft makes more sense anyway, I guess." Adaine frowned.

"Can you even carry me that far?" She asked. Machaira stared her directly in the eye and smirked.

"Yep." Adaine stood up, grabbed Machaira's hand, and started making her way out of the booth.

"Then let's go," she declared. Machaira laughed as Adaine tugged to make her go faster. She had almost no ability to physically pull Machaira anywhere, but the rogue followed her without complaint anyway. Adaine attached herself to Machaira's back the moment the tabaxi knelt down. Machaira needed to take a second for her laughter to subside before she stood up, popping Adaine a little higher up her back once more. Once the wizard was secure, Machaira set off into the drizzly city, cold wind whipping about. People stared and muttered as they walked past, and once a group of much larger men hollered at them. For once in her life, Adaine didn't give a single, solitary fuck what the people around her thought or did.

Machaira needed her tail to balance, and Adaine quickly learned that trying to scratch Machaira's head either stalled the rogue or unbalanced her, threatening to dump the elf on the street as her friend wobbled about. As much as Adaine enjoyed feeling Machaira's arms, she'd been touching her friend for a while and it didn't seem to have the same effect on either of them as petting Machaira's ears, so the elf refrained from stroking her for the moment. She did, however, discover that their height difference allowed Adaine to tuck her chin over Machaira's head, letting her rest her head directly atop the tabaxi's. Adaine kept switching positions from on top of Machaira's head to next to her as the girls talked and joked.

Adaine wondered how long Machaira would be able to carry her for, but when five minutes became thirty and the scout neither slowed nor started breathing heavier, she decided that this was how she wanted to go everywhere from now on. Machaira was getting wet, but the tabaxi didn't seem terribly bothered. Machaira assured Adaine that she was keeping the rogue warm. With Machaira's jacket blocking the wind and rain and Machaira herself keeping Adaine warm and out of the puddles, Adaine conceded that her friend had more than made up for the gym. She'd make time for scratches later. Warm, dry, and safe in a cold, wet, and unfriendly world, Adaine filed away this moment as one of the best in her life thus far.

Never. EVER. Tempt fate. She was a diviner. Why hadn't she learned her lesson yet?

"Oh, so this is how you spend your day." Adaine's little bubble of peace popped as the perfect, hated voice that dogged her nightmares snapped her back to reality. Machaira had stopped at a crosswalk, probably the first time the tabaxi was actually using one instead of dashing across the middle of the street, and who should pull up in front of them but Aelwyn. Adaine's breathing cut into short, shallow pants. Her sister's perfect smile oozed malice, shorting out any logical defense. Eyes like chips of ice locked onto Adaine's gaze, filling her with cold dread.

Aelwyn was dressed in pencil lined skirt and a white button up with the first two buttons undone, providing just a peek of cleavage that probably had boys breaking their necks trying to get a look. Her hair was styled, her makeup was perfect, and she was driving the new luxury sports car she had gotten for her grades in Hudol, the school Adaine hadn't been able to make it at. A heavy tome on advanced spell crafting sat in the shotgun seat, somehow remaining propped up against the door so that anyone who looked in could see how smart Aelwyn was, if they managed to drag their eyes off her face and tits. Adaine was in her sweat-stained t-shirt and jeans, wearing two jackets as she rode a short tabaxi who only technically had a shirt on. Until this point Adaine had managed to keep her party life and her family life separate, but now they crashed together in the worst way imaginable.

"You know, mummy and daddy have been talking about what you're really getting up to when you're off adventuring with your, ahem, 'friends,'" Aelwyn drawled, managing to sneer, smirk, and sound politely worried all at once without breaking the character of diplomat's daughter. "I bet they'll be just aghast when they learn what sort of company you've been keeping. Though, I can see why _you_ would be interested in someone like this." Her sister glanced pointedly at Machaira's chest before looking eyes with Adaine again. Aelwyn's stare pierced Adaine to the soul as the sisters simultaneously recalled their conversation after her first day of school. Adaine knew her sister's next sentence would contain the words 'furry dyke' somehow. But the wizard was already teetering on the brink of a panic attack, vision blurring until only Aelwyn's terrifying face remained. She didn't know how to make this stop.

"Do you want to deal with this right now?" Machaira asked, pulling her head out from under Adaine to properly look at her. Adaine's petrified gaze flitted to Machaira, and a dichotomy ensued that took Adaine a few seconds to process. Because Machaira's eyes still blazed, and even Aelwyn couldn't steal away all of the warmth Machaira's stare instilled in her. The rain could fall and the winter wind howl, but Machaira would burn just as fiercely. Right then, she wasn't mad or even worried; she just wanted to know what Adaine wanted. Her clear gaze made no demands, patiently waiting for Adaine to respond in her own time. The wizard couldn't seem to find her voice but managed to shake her head a little. Contempt crept in as Adaine realized just how little Aelwyn had to do to make her fall apart.

"Okay then." Machaira checked up and down the street for cars before calmly walking forward. **BA-BUMP-BUMP-BA-BUMP**. Adaine's panic poofed away as Machaira stepped up and walked over the hood of Aelwyn's car to cross the street. The wizard clung to the rogue's back like a wide-eyed koala, unable to fully process the level of disrespect that had just been dropped on her sister. Machaira didn't even look at Aelwyn as she strode atop the four hundred platinum piece paintjob. When Machaira reached the other side of the street, it finally clicked in Adaine's brain that her sister had been owned.

"Wait," she gasped, tapping Machaira's shoulder. The rogue frowned up at her. "Turn around." She urged. Machaira complied. Aelwyn stared back at Adaine, stunned at the sheer lack of fucks that were being given here. Adaine smiled wickedly and cast Web on the front half of Aelwyn's car.

"Oh, you little bitch!" Aelwyn yelled as magical webbing encased her car and the road immediately in front of her. She tried flooring the accelerator and stalled the car until she rode up and into a parking meter. "You fucking bitch. I swear to god I'll kill you for this!"

"Yeeaaaahhhh," Adaine cheered, pumping two middle fingers. "Go fuck yourself, sis." Machaira laughed, staggering a bit as she tried to maintain balance. "We can go now." Adaine told her. Machaira kept laughing as they left Aelwyn screaming curses in the street. Seeing her sister finally lose her cool was a rare and special treat indeed. "Okay, tabaxi taxi is officially the best way to get around."

"Is that what I am now, tabaxi taxi?" Machaira laughed.

"Yep." Adaine confirmed. Machaira began to tilt dangerously to the right. "And also my best friend." She added hurriedly, clutching the rogue for dear life. Machaira chuckled and straightened. Adaine loosened her hold and rested her chin on top of Machaira's head again. "Seriously, though, that was awesome. That was, like, the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"Not the coolest thing I've ever seen," Machaira countered. "You casting Web on your bitch of a sister, that was awesome." Machaira pulled her head out from under Adaine to give her a warm, proud look. "It's really hard to stand up to family."

"She's not my family," Adaine shot back, pressing her head against Machaira's. The tabaxi stalled as she nuzzled the wizard, muzzle rubbing along and over Adaine's head. Adaine hummed and nuzzled her back. The euphoric high that was Machaira stomping out her sister's presence, quite literally, lasted the rest of the way to Strongtower. The rogue gently set Adaine down at the entrance and stretched, arching her back as she rubbed the base of her spine. This pushed her chest out, and Adaine glanced away with a blush that she couldn't fully explain. The blush deepened further when she realized that Machaira had carried her across the entire city of Elmville and barely had to catch her breath. The discovery made her… warm, in a different way from how Machaira normally made her feel: impressed and almost giggly.

"Nhh," the rogue grunted as they walked inside. "Must be losing my edge. I've carried a lot heavier for longer over rougher terrain without back pain."

"Are you okay?" Adaine asked immediately, putting one hand on her shoulder and lightly running her other over Machaira's spine. The scout smiled.

"Yeah, just a little bit sore. I'll be fine in a few minutes." She promised. "Um, you run ahead. I want to, uh, dry off a bit before I get there." Machaira blushed and looked down. While Adaine was only damp where she had nuzzled Machaira's mane, her friend was basically soaked. She had once again fluffed her fur against the blaring Strongtower AC. Machaira crossed her arms over her chest, and Adaine realized that she was wearing a wet, white vest. The elf could feel the heat of her blush. Why was she noticing this so much? She shouldn't be thinking about this as much as she was, and she certainly shouldn't be so awkward about it. Machaira walked into the stairwell, and Adaine produced some towels from her jacket.

"Here," she offered one to Machaira.

"Thanks," the scout mumbled, beginning to dry her face. Adaine got behind her and started toweling her back while Machaira did her front. Although she tried not to move the vest too much, little flashes of furless skin peeked out now and again, marred red and white. The tabaxi's tail flicked about, and her ears were laid down. The muscles on her shoulders stood out more than before, tense and uncomfortable.

"Do you want to put your jacket back on before we go up?" Adaine asked. Machaira turned to face her, fur sticking up all over. The elf snickered despite herself, and Machaira smirked.

"I want it back before we leave, but… it looks better on you," the rogue said quietly, grasping the lapels of the scaly garment. She offered Adaine a shy, determined smile, and the wizard knew she was scared to face the others like this. But Machaira buttoned the jacket over Adaine anyway. The look she gave the diviner right then was soft with affection. Machaira asked for nothing from Adaine except her company, and she offered Adaine everything her life had lacked before the tabaxi entered it. With her fur still damp and mussed, wrinkled vest that barely covered her, and visage scarred from years of fighting, Machaira was the best thing Adaine had seen in a long, long time.

Adaine smiled at Machaira and tugged the hem of the jacket down a bit. Her Jacket of Useful Things was the better coat, but she absolutely loved the wyvern scales because it was Machaira's. Wearing her jacket felt like a hug and a promise. Machaira didn't need to hide herself from others because she had Adaine around, and Adaine wouldn't be alone because she had Machaira. The wizard took Machaira's hand and squeezed, trying to impart an impossible slew of emotion in the tiny action. She helped Machaira smooth her fur down a bit, and the girls ascended the stairs in silence, Machaira's tail writhing over the stairs as they approached Fig's apartment. Adaine gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing her. Machaira took a deep breath and knocked.

"Oh, hey, come one in," Fig said as she opened the door, rotting oyster glass in hand. "We were just about to – wow." Fig stared at Machaira for a bit before glancing at Adaine in her jacket. The tiefling grinned mischievously. "Uh, so, how are you guys doing? Have a good day?"

"It was raining after we finished at the gym," Machaira grumbled. "I gave Adaine my jacket so she wouldn't get wet." Fig gave the tabaxi a skeptical look and glanced between them again. Adaine could almost see the shitty _wet_ puns in the bard's eyes, but Fig knew when to keep a joke to herself.

"So, Adaine, why didn't you pull an umbrella out of your magic jacket?" Adaine blinked.

"Ummm… guess I just didn't think of that." _Because I was having way too much fun with Machaira_ her brain added silently. Fig was the absolute queen of the shit-eating grin; the tiefling didn't even need to say anything because that stupid smirk made a thousand jokes all at once. She reminded Adaine of a nicer, more respectful version of Aelwyn sometimes.

"Mmmm, okay," Fig drawled, stepping back to let them in. Gilear's apartment was almost identical to Sklonda's except Gilear had a second bedroom for Fig and hadn't erected a plaster partition in the main room. The others were all lounging about the kitchen/living room. Gilear and Sklonda were talking in the kitchen while most of the party was hanging on the couch. Machaira crossed her arms as she walked in, tail skittering behind her. The others looked over and called greetings that stuttered out toward the end as they took in the sight of a jacket-less Machaira for the first time. Machaira's ears swiveled back, and Adaine stepped up next to her to try and provide support. When the party saw Adaine wearing Machaira's jacket, they all looked at each other, then back at the two girls, then at each other again, then back at the girls.

"It was raining," Adaine said by way of explanation.

"Okay, so who stole Machaira's shirt?" Fabian asked, cheeks red as he (attempted) not to stare. Kristen made no such effort.

"You've got great ti – OW!" Fabian thumped the cleric over the back of the head before she could finish. Riz looked stricken, like no one should think about the rogue that way. Fig snickered again. Machaira crumpled inward, groaned, and hung her head. Adaine glared at the human. Just once, she wished Kristen could be more tactful.

"I always wear this," Machaira muttered. "I've been wearing it all school year. Just, you know, underneath, the…" She trailed off into incomprehensible muttering, shoulders hunched over.

"You're buff," Gorgug said after a moment. Machaira's tail tip twitched up.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Yeah, I mean, yes, I uh, like, this, erm, look, ah, for you," Fabian stammered. "It's, uh, good, very good for – on you."

"You're hot," Fig said bluntly, taking a swig from her flask. Machaira's cheeks were flaming. "Seriously, you should wear your jacket open more often."

"Sweetheart, do you think maybe it's time to go shopping?" Sklonda said from the kitchen. Gilear opened his mouth, froze, closed his mouth, and stared awkwardly at the floor. While Adaine didn't think poorly of the wood elf, they all knew that he lacked the parenting skills necessary to deal with the situation.

"I've been wearing this for a long time," Machaira mumbled, tucking her fangs down instinctively. "It's comfortable, and I've always been, well, covered…"

"All the same, maybe you should get a few T-shirts," Sklonda suggested.

"It's been on my to-do list," Machaira muttered. "I just prioritized other things."

"Like what?"

"Toothpaste, shampoo, Solstice presents, vaccines – "

"I'm sorry, what was that last one?" Sklonda inquired, tilting her head forward. Machaira repeated the list in a mumble, shoulders rolling inward. Adaine put a hand on her shoulder, and Fig smirked.

"Were your parents anti-vaxxers?" Riz asked.

"No, they just hated me." The party broke out into giggles despite how horrible that was.

"Well, that's a good use of gold," Sklonda groaned, rubbing her temples. The goblin seemed torn between approval, exasperation, and concern. "I trust you girls had a good time?" There was a weight to that question that made Adaine hesitate.

"Yeah, I took Adaine to the gym after school and then we hung out at Basrar's for a while." Machaira replied. Sklonda nodded, scrutinizing the tabaxi. She glanced at Adaine, and the wizard realized that the cop mom was drawing all the wrong conclusions.

"Machaira and I walked here," she explained hastily. Sklonda sized her up with the 'mom stare' that could detect thoughts without wasting a spell slot. Fig snickered, and Machaira blushed, but Sklonda seemed to conclude that they were telling the truth. Eventually she settled the party and got them to sit down for dinner. Machaira was absolutely mortified, but the shock of her appearance had worn off. The others made an effort not to comment on her, and Machaira eventually relaxed as the focus of conversation stayed off of her.

Adaine and Machaira hardly said a word to each other throughout dinner and during the conversations that followed. They laughed and joked and talked with the others, but a comfortable peace lay between them that neither felt the need to fill with words. In fact, Adaine barely thought about Machaira until more than two hours after their arrival. The rogue announced that she had to go to the bathroom, and Adaine instinctively turned to face the most recent speaker, bringing her face-to-butt with Machaira's backside.

_Machaira has a great ass_.

Adaine shook her head, wondering where the thought came from. Not that it was wrong. Machaira's ass was normally disguised by the hem of her bulky jacket, so Adaine hadn't seen it properly before. Not that she'd ever put effort into that, of course. But now Adaine felt obligated to watch Machaira walk away. Gods, the tabaxi might have lived a miserable life, but years of fighting and hunting had done miracles for her legs, a pair of sculpted marble columns crowned by a truly great ass. She shouldn't have noticed, or at least shouldn't have cared. But she did, and the high elf was disappointed when the door closed and hid Machaira from view. She turned back to the table to see Fig appraising her with a smirk. The bard waggled her eyebrows, and Adaine started gulping ice water to try and bring down the surge of heat that crept into her face. What was wrong with her?

A little while later they moved to Fig's room so that Gilear and Sklonda could have some private time before the goblin had to go to work the night shift. Riz and Fig were still hopeful that the two would get together properly. Adaine was quick to claim the right side of the bed while Fig took the left. Riz was small enough to lie across the foot of the bed. Fabian pulled up a chair while Kristen and Gorgug sat against the footboard. Adaine realized that Machaira wouldn't be able to sit next to her, thus making this one of the rare times they didn't cuddle during a movie, but she only had a few minutes to lament the problem. The tabaxi, who had been helping Gilear with the dishes, walked into the room just as Fig was setting up the movie, strode over to the bed, and scooped Adaine into her arms bridal style. The wizard _eeepp_-ed but didn't fight, more confused than upset as the rogue claimed Adaine's place and deposited the high elf in her lap.

"Um, Machaira, that's Adaine's spot," Gorgug informed her.

"Yes, it was." She agreed calmly, propping herself half-upright with some pillows. Fig burst into hyena cackles, shortly followed by Riz and Kristen. Adaine blinked up at Machaira, who smiled cheekily back. The high elf accepted her fate and snuggled up to Machaira, resting her head on the scout's chest. Adaine never would have dreamed of doing that, but it was such a typical 'Machaira' thing to do that she had to smile. These were movie arrangements she could get behind.

Fig turned on feature presentation, a horror movie that had won the popular vote with two votes (their party could not coordinate anything). Adaine wasn't exactly frightened of horror movies, but they made her uncomfortable and held little entertainment value for her. At first, they chatted and teased each other and the movie, but as the film progressed conversation began to peter out. Some of them became engrossed in or scared of the movie while others fell asleep. Adaine turned over to lie face down on her living pillow and unbuttoned the wyvern scale jacket, spreading the flaps to cover Machaira's side like a really shitty blanket.

Machaira, who was either disinterested or repulsed by the movie depending on how much gratuitous gore got splashed around, began stroking her head. The claws that disemboweled lycanthropes gently teased any new knots out of her hair until Adaine's platinum locks were silky smooth. Adaine simply melted under her touch, each pet dragging her deeper into a contented slumber. The violence of the movie faded under the rogue's ministrations, leaving her warm and satisfied. The wizard sighed, and Machaira started slightly. She removed her hand with a muttered apology, apparently unaware of what she was doing.

Adaine looked up. With the lights off, Machaira's eyes glinted like the sparks off a smoldering log, reflecting the horror movie into something safe and welcoming. She reached out, taking Machaira's hand and dragging it into her hair. Adaine interlocked their fingers, her palm grasping the back of Machaira's hand, and squeezed, barely pushing the tips of her claws out. The tabaxi smiled and squeezed back. Adaine let go and laid her head down, eyes fluttering closed as Machaira resumed petting her. Yes, she still owed Machaira a good scritching, but she wouldn't turn down such attention when offered.

Riz invited them to sleep over at his place after the movie. Sklonda had left for work, so they had until about noon before she got back. Riz bade them goodnight and shut his door. Machaira offered Adaine the couch, and Adaine told her to lie down. She crawled into place next to the rogue and tossed the blanket over them. Machaira chuckled and pulled her further back on the couch, spooning Adaine with an arm over her waist. Her tail strained to escape the confines of the blanket. Adaine lifted the cloth, and Machaira's tail snaked about the couch like a mad viper for a second before curling over Adaine's hip. She giggled and murmured a sleepy _goodnight_. Machaira breathed _sweet dreams_ and stilled behind her. For elves, sleep was more of a doze that allowed them to reflect on the day, though Adaine was young enough to fall properly asleep if she wanted to. But she wanted to relive the past ten hours or so for the rest of the night, and set about doing so. After about twenty-five minutes, Machaira carefully propped herself onto her elbow and placed her hand on Adaine's bicep.

"Adaine Abernant," Machaira whispered softly. "You are without a doubt the best part of my life. You have healed wounds that I thought would fester forever and brightened my life beyond every expectation I had set for myself." Machaira touched her nose to Adaine's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but… I love you. I tried to tell myself it was a crush, but you mean so much more than that to me. I know you deserve better. I know you don't, don't want me. I'm sorry I love you, and I'm sorry I'm too much a coward to admit it." Machaira's voice was impossibly soft and horribly sad, murmurs edged with the echo of swallowed sobs. Slowly, the wizard realized that her friend thought she was fully asleep.

"I know that you don't feel the same, and that's fine. I don't… I don't need you to want me." Her voice broke, and the tabaxi took a moment to find her words. "I'd rather love you in secret from afar and see you happy than lose you. You are a remarkable person, and I'll give you my all until you can see what I see in you. You are a beautiful in so many ways. I've loved watching you discover that, and I'll love you as long as you will let me. But I can't lose this… this bond between us. Nothing is worth losing you." Machaira's muzzle pulled away just enough for her to brush her lips against Adaine's shoulder.

"Sweet dreams, Adaine. I'll help you find your gold, even if you leave me behind. And I'll always be your friend. I promise." Machaira laid back down, leaving their position unchanged from when they first settled in. Adaine stared at the opposite wall, eyes wide. She wasn't having a panic attack exactly, but her brain completely ceased to function in the same manner. It took the high elf almost twenty minutes to fully comprehend that yes, that did in fact happen. Adaine turned over and sat up to face Machaira, but the rogue was actually asleep, face caught somewhere between grief and affection. A thousand thoughts flew through Adaine's brain, too fast for her to process. In the storm of confusion, one thought stood out: did she love Machaira?

Adaine blinked down at the tabaxi. She was so different from anyone else Adaine knew, especially the handful of people she had crushed on. The wizard's fantasies almost exclusively involved young male elves with the occasional human or tiefling. She had never considered a girlfriend aside from the panicked concerns after the corn fight. She had certainly never imagined herself with someone so fearsome. The thought was so strange, Adaine found herself leaning back and examining the sleeping scout.

Her head wasn't humanoid at all, but Machaira's lips had uncurled slightly as she slept into their more humanoid form. She wondered what it would be like to kiss them. The idea of fur still wasn't appealing, but as Adaine petted Machaira's mane, the smooth silk of her fur was soothing. She wanted to touch Machaira. Adaine became almost restless if they didn't hold each other for long periods of time, something she had always attributed it to a complete lack of physical contact elsewhere in her life. But even if the wizard went to a movie night where Machaira was not present and snuggled up to Fig or Kristen or Gorgug, she still missed the tabaxi.

Machaira had always had a sort of feral grace about her, but now that Adaine could see more of her, she had to admit that Fig was right: Machaira was hot. Every inch of her body was lean, toned muscle. Every line and curve of her form drew the eye until the viewer simply drank in all of her. The scars Machaira hid from the world had healed well, leaving behind an ivory tally of those who failed to kill her. Her mottled coat was lovely even in the wizard's monochrome dark vision. Adaine once again found her eyes fluttering between Machaira's face and her breasts, color blossoming on the elf's cheeks where no one could see it. Most girls would kill for a body like that, but Adaine would rather touch Machaira than have her figure. She didn't think the desire was sexual, exactly. The high elf wanted the rogue to feel cared for, cherished. But, if that was where it stopped, then she shouldn't feel so embarrassed about appreciating her friend's appearance or be so captivated by the idea of touching her.

She knew this person. They had studied together, broken down together, laughed together, fought together, and killed together. Her shape was lean and wild but familiar and comforting. The arc of her fangs, sharp tips of her claws, and broad curve of her skull represented home better than Adaine's front door did. Even knowing her friend's dark past and secret emotions, Adaine knew at her core that she was safe with the tabaxi, physically and emotionally. Machaira represented strength, the will to be a good person in a complicated world and the resolve to survive against impossible hardships. She admired the tabaxi, might have even been a little jealous of her had Machaira not stood by her side so faithfully. The tabaxi was the one constant in her life, a never-ending font of love and support. She had no doubt that Machaira's emotions ran deeper than a crush because even when the scout was too afraid of Adaine to talk about her past, she had given the wizard more of herself than anyone else in her life.

Part of Adaine wanted to wake Machaira up and demand why the rogue was so afraid to tell her this. What made Machaira think this way? Why did she just assume that she wasn't good enough for Adaine? Her friend was a powerful, kind person, and Adaine hated these insecurities. Machaira's moments of vulnerability made Adaine forget her own anxiety. Her friend had very good reasons for why she felt the way she did, but the high elf couldn't stand it. Machaira deserved to be happy, to see herself for the strong, amazing person she was. Her scars should be badges of honor, not marks of shame. It wasn't Adaine's responsibility to fix Machaira's self-image – something in her needed the tabaxi to be okay.

But then, if Machaira asked Adaine if she loved her, the wizard wasn't sure what she would say.

Machaira was the only person with whom she shared significant intimacy in any way, and the diviner cared deeply for her. The tabaxi was, without a shadow of a doubt, her best friend to date. She admired the ferocious warrior and the loving girl. She was intrigued by her friend's wildness and soothed by her kindness. Machaira was attentive and affectionate, a warm presence her life had so sorely needed. Adaine treasured her company and longed to be close with her when they were apart. But was that love or friendship? Machaira was striking, but could Adaine ever be truly attracted to someone so animalistic, and could she love someone romantically if she wasn't fully attracted to her? Was their intimacy the sign of a powerful camaraderie or deeper passions? The rogue always put her first, and Adaine knew that Machaira would not act on what she had just said, that she wouldn't have said it at all if she knew Adaine was awake. If Machaira really loved her, wouldn't she say something? Adaine knew that she wasn't being fair, that the situation was more complicated than that, but if Machaira wasn't going to act, why should she?

Adaine asked herself what she wanted in that moment, and her answer came immediately. The high elf laid back down and wriggled against Machaira. The tabaxi mumbled but didn't wake as Adaine took up her original position and settled down to sleep. For now, she would enjoy the moment. She could sort out everything else later and properly talk to Machaira about this once she had a definite answer to give her. Machaira would wait for her. She always did.


	22. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 8: Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love. Sex. The two are connected, but sometimes we allow ourselves to confuse one for the other or to deny one because of the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXPLICIT CONTENT!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> All explicit content is in the final segment of this chapter. The very first line gives it away. However, it is not pure smut. There's a lot of character growth in that chapter.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Terrible Holiday, but hopefully this will make it a little better.
> 
> As always, reviews are super helpful, especially for big chapters like this one

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 8: Truth**

Machaira walked Adaine home the next day, which helped fortify the high elf against the tirade waiting for her. Adaine had hell to pay for what she and Machaira did to Aelwyn. Her parents were enraged, or rather coldly dissatisfied, with her yet again. Adaine pointed out that, while what Machaira did was awesome (earning her a rebuke from her mother and a death glare from Aelwyn), Adaine hadn't told Machaira to walk over her sister's car. That had been the tabaxi's own amazing, spontaneous decision. As for Adaine's Web spell, her sister could have used Dispel Magic to free herself before running her car into the parking meter instead of after. A quick Mend spell had fixed the damage to the car, so there were no lasting consequences. To Aelwyn's fury, Adaine scored a point there – one point compared to her sister's hundred, but Adaine would take what she could get.

However, her parents did subject her to a lengthy lecture explaining the many ways she was a failure. Adaine got to go back over all the old classics like _why can't you get along with your sister_, _your behavior reflects poorly on the rest of us_, _what has gotten into you_, and, the most popular tune in the Abernant household, _I'm very disappointed in you_. Adaine had heard it all before and was simply waiting for it to be over until her mother referred to her in passing as a delinquent. That stung more than she cared to admit. She knew her parents thought poorly of her, but she hadn't expected to have sunk quite so low in their eyes.

But she didn't have a panic attack. Before her family had quite finished deconstructing her, just when Adaine's resolve was cracking, her crystal vibrated. The wizard knew it was Machaira checking up on her. So, after Adaine had been sent to her room, she called the rogue.

"Hey," Machaira's soft answer greeted her on the second ring. Adaine could hear a fire crackling in the background. "How much flak did the assholes give you?" The high elf smiled even as she related her most recent dressing down. Machaira let her rant uninterrupted, offering a consolation when Adaine paused for breath so that she knew her friend was listening. The muffled tread of boots on packed earth and the faint echo of birdsong helped calm her racing blood pressure. Machaira rarely had anything new to say, but Adaine didn't want practical advice. She just wanted someone to take note of her sense of isolation and inferiority and show a little empathy. She wanted someone to be her friend, and she had found that someone in the tabaxi.

Machaira was a good listener. She remembered the details of Adaine's tirades, and, though she always had mud to fling at the elf's family, kept the focus of the conversation on Adaine and her emotional state. The wizard's indignation was tempered by Machaira's patience and acceptance, slowly easing her from frustration to peace. When, after an hour had passed, the rogue's voice was distorted by the familiar rustling of a great many blankets, Adaine was struck by a pang of longing. Adaine always craved the scout's influence most during these conversations, when it felt like Machaira was the only person in the world who cared about her. She had just spent all of yesterday with Machaira, even slept with her, but she wanted to be with her again. Adaine wanted to attach a picture to the sounds she had come to associate with Machaira's home. The wizard imagined a small, warm space filled with blankets and dusted in fur as the tabaxi's clothes tended to be, a place far away from her shitty sister and demanding parents. She longed to cuddle up with Machaira in the place where the rogue was at once most vulnerable and powerful, where strange creatures sometimes shrieked or howled among the distant trees but would not dare approach Adaine because Machaira was with her. Machaira, who feared no monster in the Far Haven Woods but would shuffle and blush and blink shyly up at Adaine, embarrassed but thrilled just to be herself around the diviner.

For two days, Adaine suffered her family's off-handed insults and cool disrespect. Whenever they became too painful to endure, she would call or text Machaira. The rogue was always willing to talk, patient and supportive for as long as Adaine needed her. When Adaine was finally able to get back to her friends, it felt like stepping out of a walk-in freezer. When Machaira gave her a hug, she felt like she had found the sun. The last dregs of anxiety slipped from her shoulders, and Adaine basked in the warmth that was Machaira. As the day wore on, Adaine would look over at the tabaxi from time to time, amazed at how such a small thing as having someone to vent to made her life so much easier to bear.

_Whatever her own indecision, Adaine knew Machaira would always be there for her. The tabaxi's love was obvious, and though Adaine hadn't expected her friend's feelings to be romantic, she loved that Machaira loved her._

Machaira was a predator. Adaine knew and accepted this, but Sklonda hadn't yet. The goblin mother kept trying to convince Machaira to stay the night, if not with her than with someone else. Machaira liked Sklonda and appreciated her permission to use the laundry machine, so Sklonda could usually persuade her. But the tabaxi was in a foul mood when denied prey for too long, growing restless and irritable. Moody Machaira wasn't exactly mean, but she didn't talk or joke or participate in activities much. She just kind of hung around the rest of the party, attention flying to the movements of small animals, eyes brightening at the possibility of a fight only to dull when the conflict was resolved. The rogue's appetite diminished, and her tail and whiskers drooped more. Even following her lengthy grooming regimen, Machaira's lustrous coat lost some of its sheen. She pulled away if people tried to touch her, fur bristling at the smallest physical contact. When Machaira couldn't hunt, something paced behind her eyes, yowling to be free. Adaine looked at her friend and saw only half of the beautiful tabaxi who had changed her life.

"You can't keep her here," Adaine told Sklonda in private one night. "I know it seems crazy, especially for a cop, but Machaira has to be out there. She needs to hunt."

"I understand that she hunted for food when she was homeless, but it's not safe." Sklonda argued. "A girl her age shouldn't be living on her own, no matter how natural it might feel. She needs to be around other people. Besides, we keep her pretty well-fed. You can just pull food out of your jacket whenever. And most tabaxi don't hunt."

"No, most tabaxi are thieves," Adaine countered. "And this is about so much more than food. I know it's hard to understand, but Machaira isn't like us. She had her own needs to be happy and healthy. I need peace and quiet, you need to know that Riz is okay, and Machaira needs to hunt."

"And what happens if she goes out hunting and has an accident in the woods, or some monster gets the drop on her?" Sklonda pressed. "I know you care about Machaira, but you have to acknowledge the risks. Adaine, can you really let Machaira keep living like this?"

"I trust her to come back." Adaine said simply. "She hasn't survived this long by being stupid. If shit hits the fan, she'll call for help or get herself to safety. Or, more likely, she won't put herself in a spot that she can't get out of. And if we don't let her go, we'll lose her for good." Sklonda took a deep breath through her nose and sighed.

"Well, you can't fight destiny," she muttered, studying Adaine. "You sure about this?" Adaine nodded. "Alright, I'll back off. But I hope you're right." Adaine assured the goblin she was. The next day, Adaine met up with the scout to find her in significantly better spirits but very high energy. Adaine knew without asking that she had been ranging but not found anything. The day after that, Machaira greeted Adaine with their normal hug before nuzzling the elf with the crown of her skull. She murmured an apology for being a bitch, which Adaine accepted without fuss. The tabaxi always brushed her teeth before she went anywhere, but Adaine could smell iron and salt underneath the mint of toothpaste.

Adaine dragged out the hug for a moment, stroking Machaira's mane. The rogue purred quietly, saber teeth tickling Adaine as she rubbed her muzzle along the wizard's shoulder. Birds had to fly, fish had to swim, and Machaira had to hunt to be whole. It was a part of her friend that Adaine didn't pretend to understand but had long accepted, even acknowledging the ethics behind her hunts. At the end of the day, Adaine wanted Machaira to be okay, and if that meant adjusting her own definition of normal, so be it.

_Machaira was different from anyone Adaine had ever known. But whatever her animal tendencies, the _person_ of Machaira was one of the best Adaine had had the joy to know._

Kristen wasn't allowed to pet Machaira. When the tabaxi fell asleep on Fig's carpet after a long Saturday of work, Fig slapped aside Kristen's hand as it tried to sneak its way into Machaira's mane.

"Nope," the bard denied.

"Oh, come one," Kristen complained. "This is so unfair."

"You can pet Machaira when you stop making that thirsty duck face." The tiefling declared. "Until then, hands to yourself." The cleric muttered rebelliously. A few minutes later she again tried to sneak her fingers into the tabaxi's fur only to be stopped again by Fabian.

"You are trying to touch a sleeping girl without her permission," the half-elf reminded her. "Like, no."

"Why does Adaine get to pet her then?" Kristen countered.

"Machaira always wants Adaine to pet her," Fig laughed.

"Adaine basically owns the rights to petting Machaira." Fabian summarized.

"Pretty much," Adaine agreed, rubbing the rogue's ear between her thumb and forefinger. Machaira's head shifted slightly, turning toward Adaine's hand. "You can pet her when you stop treating it like foreplay."

"I mean, isn't it though?" The cleric protested.

"No." They others said in emphatic harmony.

"Machaira told you it wasn't, but you still look at her and Adaine the way you do at Tracker's picture." Riz added, draping a blanket over the scout. "It's really creepy." Machaira twisted her head upside down in her sleep, exposing the underside of her throat to Adaine, who delicately scratched the new area with a fingernail. Kristen continued to grumble but backed off for the time being. She was the only one in the group who wasn't allowed to pet Machaira, a rule that had been made without consulting the tabaxi but was based off the unease Machaira sometimes displayed around the human. While the two girls usually got along, it was no secret that they were the least close out of all the pairs in the party.

Machaira had actually become fairly close to Fabian since the fight with Saraih Sootfang. Over the winter break, the rogue and fighter had spent hours on their almost daily sparring sessions at Seacaster Manor. Bill Seacaster was quite fond of her, especially since Machaira had brought him a wolf skull with images of him and Fabian carved into it, per his request the first time they visited the manor. From what Adaine understood, the two teens rarely talked about anything of substance, instead enjoying a quiet camaraderie as they accepted each other's ruthless tendencies. Fabian seldom showed open affection for the tabaxi, though Adaine did catch Machaira asleep with her head on Fabian's shoulder once. The boy had looked a little unsure of himself as he clumsily patted her head.

"I can't move," he had whispered to Adaine. "And I don't want to wake her." Adaine had giggled but ultimately took mercy on him, rousing Machaira just enough for the tabaxi to recognize Adaine by scent. Machaira immediately left Fabian to curl up with the wizard, purring as she drifted back to sleep. Fig and Gorgug were more comfortable petting her, and both musicians sought her out for advice with personal dilemmas. Between shared classes and living spaces, Riz spent almost as much time one-on-one with the scout as Adaine did. Their good-natured banter was as likely as not to break out into a play-fight, though neither ever hurt the other. Riz was a little older than Machaira, but everyone made sure to call him 'The Little Brother Ball' when they squabbled, a title Sklonda never argued against but instead smiled at. Both rogues were also fiercely defensive of the other, and Riz had already shot someone in the back for trying to sneak up on Machaira, a horrifying event that had earned him extra credit.

But Adaine was Machaira's undisputed best friend. Adaine was Machaira's confidant for her smallest and largest concerns. The tabaxi gravitated toward her whenever they went to sit down or stood to move. If Adaine walked up to Machaira while she was focused on something else, the rogue wrapped her tail around Adaine's waist and gave the wizard her full attention the moment she could. While the others might pet Machaira, they never did so without looking to Adaine for permission, recognizing that she was the scout's bodyguard while Machaira was unresponsive. The acknowledgement that her relationship with Machaira was the strongest, that their bond was special and worth respecting, always helped the wizard feel grounded. Machaira had been hurt time and time again, but she trusted Adaine completely. As the high elf stroked Machaira's silky pelt and listened to the barest breath of a purr slip out from between her lips, a surge of protectiveness came over her.

Machaira didn't think Adaine could ever love her, and the diviner still didn't have an answer for her. But she knew that she would support the rogue either way. Adaine wasn't going to let anyone hurt her again.

_Adaine was Machaira's best friend. When everything else felt complicated and scary and confusing, this simple truth always remained, a rock for her to cling to in her darkest moments and the cornerstone of a new life she had begun to build among her party. In Machaira, Adaine had discovered a sense of belonging._

Adaine loved Solstice with the Thistlesprings. The house-tree was decked with strings of colored lights and little Helioic symbols. The Thistlesprings were thrilled to have them over, constantly gushing over Gorgug as they celebrated their adopted son's friendships. The party had decided to go for a 'white mammoth' arrangement instead of having everyone buy a gift for everyone else. Adaine got lucky with a bottle of perfume from Kristen, but not everyone was so fortunate. Machaira nearly doubled over laughing when she unwrapped the present she had selected, a sweater and knee-high socks from Fig. The tiefling wanted to make sure that Gorgug would be able to wear them if he picked her gift, but the clothes were far too big for Machaira's tiny frame. For her part, Machaira had bought a simple watch for her white mammoth gift but pulled Adaine aside toward the end of the party and handed her a little pouch.

"I know we weren't supposed to get gifts for everyone, but I wanted to, I don't know, just, do something, something special for you," she stammered, white cheeks glowing red. "Since you're, like, my best friend." Machaira's fur fluffed slightly, ears and whiskers going back. The pouch she gave Adaine was a soft piece of leather tied with a leather drawstring. Adaine pulled it open and emptied a little necklace into her palm. The necklace strap was also leather, and a pointed tooth hung where a pendant normally would. The tooth had been bound to the leather by a curling strand of copper wire and intricately carved with images of Adaine. One side displayed the wizard casting Witch Bolt at some unseen foe, expression fearful but determined, stance strong in the face of danger. The other was a simple picture of Adaine writing in her wizard's book at the library and smiling across the table. The detail on the scrimshaws was incredible, shaded so that the tiny images had phenomenal depth. The high elf could see the affection in the eyes of her tiny portrait and knew that this was what the tabaxi saw when she looked at her.

"I know you don't wear a lot of jewelry, and this isn't really your style," Machaira murmured, tail wrapping around her ankle.

"No, I like it," Adaine protested. "I do. It's lovely." She swept on over Machaira's skeptical protests. "It's beautiful, thank you." Machaira ducked her head and mumbled a bit more about how she'd understand if Adaine didn't like it. The wizard rolled her eyes, told Machaira to just take the compliment, and put on the necklace. Machaira's shyness evaporated, and she beamed at Adaine, tail waving over her head like a celebratory banner. The high elf smiled and hugged her.

"You did a great job." She promised the rogue. "It's lovely, thank you." Adaine's praise was not an empty platitude. Aside from the quality craftsmanship, the little gift clearly had a lot of love put into it. Such a carving would have taken days, possibly weeks to make. It wasn't expensive or flashy, but the necklace screamed Machaira. At the surface, a carved tooth on a string was a simple, almost barbaric present. But Machaira had wanted to give Adaine something special, and she had poured hours of time into making something beautiful the only way she knew how.

As the girls laughed and joked with the party for the remainder of the Solstice, they hardly spoke to one another. But when Adaine carefully wrapped and hid the necklace in her sock drawer that night so her family wouldn't take it away, she smirked and rubbed the tooth between her fingers. The little ornament left her with no thoughts, just warm feelings.

_Whatever doubts she had about herself, Machaira made sure Adaine knew that she thought the wizard was special. And the more she was with Machaira, the more Adaine began to believe it herself._

Adaine didn't plan on wearing her necklace much since, as Machaira mentioned, she didn't wear jewelry in general. But she did wear it for the New Year party at Strongtower. Sklonda had to work over the holiday, which Riz said was an unfortunately common occurrence, so the party would be held at Fig's place. Adaine's family only celebrated the elven New Year, but they did like to invite their high elf friends over on the Solace New Year so they could sneer at the other races together. Adaine slipped away a few hours early so that she wouldn't get wrapped up with her family.

"Hi, Adaine," Fig greeted her. "You're super early."

"I know; I'm sorry. I didn't want to get roped into this dumb thing my family was doing tonight." The high elf apologized, but Fig was already waving her inside.

"Hey, you know what, fuck 'em," she told the wizard. "We're happy to have you. Come on, grab a drink." The bard pushed a hot chocolate into her hands, no doubt spiked as her Solstice batch had been, and led her over to the living room. Kristen and Riz were already present and playing a board game, grinning as Adaine approached.

"Hi, Adaine," Kristen said, smiling a little too widely to be totally sober. "Now we just need Fabian and Riz, and we'll have the full party to party. Hicc!" Kristen hiccupped, laughed, and took another gulp of hot chocolate. Adaine decided to drink hers more slowly.

"So, is Machaira already here then?" She deduced.

"Yeah, she's at my place cooking dinner for tonight," Riz informed Adaine. "Yeah, I didn't see it coming either." He continued, correctly interpreting Adaine's surprised stare. "She's using, like, pots and everything. She called my mom and asked if she or Gilear had anything planned for dinner. My mom is at work, and Gilear just can't cook, so she offered to make dinner for us tonight."

"Oh, what's she making?" Adaine asked.

"I don't know, but it smells good," Riz said. "I got kicked out for trying to eat her ingredients, but you should be fine to go over and take a look if you want." Adaine was already heading toward the door.

"Oh, yeah, I have to see this," she declared. Adaine couldn't remember Machaira ever talking about cooking. She knew the tabaxi smoked her own jerky and assumed she roasted meat over a fire, but actually cooking in a kitchen was a whole different thing. Adaine knew Fabian, Fig, Riz, and Gorgug, like herself, had no idea how to cook. Kristen could bake cornbread and other corn-related dishes but nothing else. She wondered where Machaira had learned. The Gukgak's apartment was unlocked, and at first glance Adaine couldn't see Machaira. But she could see the mess of pans, chopped refuse, and cookware scattered about the kitchen. The oven was on, and the delicious smell of cooking meat drifted about the room. A faint rustling came from deeper in the apartment, and Adaine looked over just as the bathroom light flicked off.

"Hey, you're early," Machaira greeted easily, smiling as she stepped out and approached Adaine, tail waving above her head. "Sorry, the place is kind of a mess. I was just about to start cleaning up." Adaine stared mutely, trying to process the tabaxi's appearance. Because Machaira was not wearing her jacket, nor was she wearing her vest, boots, or pants that Adaine could see. Machaira had donned Fig's oversized Solstice sweater, rolling up the sleeves a half dozen times so that her hands and the first half of her scarred forearms were visible. The sweater hung to about three-quarters of the way down her thighs, swishing around her legs like a loose dress. The neckline had fallen off one shoulder, revealing a tantalizing peek of a delicate collarbone and the top of a muscular bicep. As she moved, the sweater shifted about her shoulders as if it was about to fall off, flashing little glimpses of sleek fur without showing anything of consequence. Machaira was also wearing the giant socks, which rode up past her knees but didn't quite reach the hem of the sweater, leaving a thin line of thigh visible.

"Uh, hey," Adaine managed. "You, uh, look good in that sweater. Really, um, festive. Happy New Years, Machaira." Talking was hard for some reason. Her brain didn't want to focus on anything other than Machaira's exposed shoulder. The rogue smiled and hugged her with a tiny purr. Adaine hugged her back on instinct, trying to wrap her head around the creature before her. The sweater was so loose it rode up her body as they hugged, bunching about Machaira's stomach. The sweater was a soft, fuzzy, somewhat loose weave that made the tabaxi extremely huggable, even more so than normal. Machaira twisted her head to lie her cheek and muzzle across Adaine's shoulder, curling peacefully against her chest. Adaine was able to confirm from touch that, no, Machaira was not wearing anything else under the sweater. While certainly fluffy, the sweater wasn't particularly thick, and Adaine could feel the soft curves and hard planes of muscle beneath the fabric. While these were neither new sensations nor as easily detectable as they had been the first time Machaira took off her jacket, something about Machaira's attire was… enticing. The scout wrapped her tail around Adaine's back for a moment before pulling away. A part of Adaine didn't want to let her go.

"Thanks, it's a little big, and I had to make a hole for my tail, but I like it a lot." Machaira turned around and waved her tail back and forth for demonstration. She had cut a hole in the back of the sweater and resewn the edges to prevent unraveling. The hole was a bit of a tight fit for her tail, pressing her fur flat at the base and making the rest of her tail seem even fluffier. Machaira had also cut the hole a little low on the sweater, causing it to ride up a bit in the back and expose more of her thighs. Adaine noticed that the strands of her fur became shorter and finer as they neared her hips. The wizard's brain found something besides her shoulder to focus on.

"Nice," Adaine said vacantly, straining to remember what they were talking about.

"Yeah, I'd never wear it out and about, but it's good to wear when everything else is in the wash," Machaira continued, placing a bowl in the sink. "Speaking of which, my clothes should be dry any minute now. I should go down to the laundry room and pick them up."

"No!" Adaine interrupted louder than she meant to, startling the tabaxi. "I mean, um, no, I'll go do that for you. You, uh, have your hands full here."

"Oh, thank you, Adaine," Machaira told her. The rogue picked up a laundry basket from the bathroom door and passed it to Adaine with a grateful smile. She flicked her tail against Adaine's legs, a gesture Machaira had done a thousand times before but this time sent Adaine's heart pounding. The wizard murmured something even she couldn't decipher and stumbled out of the apartment. Strongtower Luxury Apartments, despite its seedy location, was not a dangerous building, and Machaira was more than capable of fending for herself. But the idea that Machaira would go all the way down to the laundry room on the ground floor dressed like – No. Something inside her seethed and snarled at the thought of Strongtower's residents seeing _her_ tabaxi like that.

Adaine stood straight with the basket of warm, clean laundry and took a deep breath. Where was this coming from? She needed to get this laundry upstairs and calm down a little. The first part was easy, but when Adaine opened the door and saw Machaira bent over to take a tray out of the oven, her heartbeat almost doubled. The sweater rode up her legs so that it _almost_ reveled the bottom of her butt. Adaine momentarily froze, eyes glued to the fine, smooth down of fur that sleeked her legs just beneath the hem of the sweater. Even through the sweater, Adaine was reminded that Machaira had a great ass.

Machaira stood, and the moment ended. The rogue placed the tray atop a rubber pad on the kitchen table and closed the oven door behind her with her foot. Adaine noticed that she had left some space between the toe of the sock and her actual toes so that a loose bit of fabric flopped about at the end of her foot. It occurred to Adaine that the others might come over and see Machaira like this. The wizard was jolted forward, quickly pulling the door shut behind her. The same small part of her that hadn't wanted to let go of Machaira whispered that she should lock it as well, but Adaine refrained.

"Thank you," Machaira said, just noticing her return. "You can just put the basket by the bathroom. I'll take care of it in a bit." Adaine nodded and did as she asked, bumping her hip into the table as she did so. "Are you okay?" The rogue asked. Adaine nodded. "Your face is really red. Looks like the cold wind got to you a little." Machaira walked over to Adaine, once more taunting the high elf with that exposed shoulder. She gently cupped Adaine's cheek, face creased with concern. "Wow, no, you're burning up. I didn't know elves could get fevers."

"No, uh, I think it's Fig's hot chocolate." Adaine forced herself to speak. "She, um, spiked it." Machaira turned toward Adaine's half-forgotten cup on the table and parted her jaws, tasting the air. Glistening fangs peeked out for but a few seconds before falling out of view again.

"Hmm, that'll do it," she decided. "Here, let me get you some water." Machaira turned back to the kitchen. Adaine was confronted with her scarred head and shredded ears. The traitorous sweater revealed a white slash cresting her shoulder. The wizard wanted to touch it. Machaira placed a water glass next to Adaine's hot chocolate. "Just sip on that. We'll be ready to eat soon, and that'll help with Fig's 'spicy' hot chocolate." Adaine nodded and murmured an affirmative, gulping the full glass of water and her hot chocolate to boot. "Thirsty?" Machaira teased, loading a metal tray into the dishwasher. Adaine tried not to think about the word's double meaning as her gaze swept over the scout's figure.

Adaine found herself edging closer to Machaira as she continued to clean the kitchen. The rogue seemed to be waiting for one last thing to come out of the oven before her meal was done, though Adaine couldn't say for sure. A small pot of mushrooms simmered in a dark sauce. Bits of greenery waited in tiny bowls. A dish of soft-boiled vegetables sat to the side, and a round chunk of meat the size of Adaine's torso lay steaming on a serving tray in a pool of its own juices, browned but not burned. Adaine wasn't sure what the dish was, but it filled the air with a delicious, savory odor. Machaira busied herself tidying up, preparing the space for dinner. Adaine reached out and stroked her head, fingers tracing the ursine's claw marks. Machaira stalled, eyes fluttering shut, and leaned to her left until she could rest her head on Adaine's chest. The tabaxi nuzzled her and loosed a soft purr that dulled the elf's senses to everything but her immediate surroundings.

"Mmmm, I still have work to do," Machaira hummed, wrapping her tail around Adaine's ankle anyway. The elf had no desire to move but gave the scout a final scratch and removed her hand anyway. Machaira pulled back, tail lingering about the wizard's legs, and drew a knife out of seemingly nowhere. She cut a piece of meat off the top of the roast and held it up to Adaine between her claws. "Here, tell me what you think." Adaine took the morsel from her, drawn to the scout's golden eyes. The meat was gamey but tender. She didn't know what it was, but she liked it.

"It's good," she told the rogue. Machaira's rusty purr was barely audible. She began slicing the roast into strips, tails curling above her. The tabaxi's simple contentment was a pretty good indicator that she'd been hunting last night, and whatever she had caught was going to be their main course. "So, what are we eating?"

"Hippogriff," she growled with satisfaction. "This bastard has been taking food from my camp for months. I've been hunting him since the night before we went to the Black Pit, and I finally brought him down last night." Adaine remembered hearing a screech over the crystal that night when she cost Machaira her dinner, but the rogue clearly held no resentment toward her for that misfortune. Seeing the predator come out a bit helped clear Adaine's head. She realized that part of what was so jarring about Machaira's current appearance was that she seemed so… domestic.

Machaira was a fierce warrior, but for the moment she seemed content to cook and clean. This new aspect of the scout that wasn't exactly out of place, just new and different. Adaine knew that once the satisfaction of her hunt wore off, Machaira would be back to normal. She wondered if Machaira would have offered to cook dinner without that previous high of a successful hunt? Adaine enjoyed Machaira's more cuddly emotions, but she knew that the rogue was a predator at heart, unsatisfied without a challenge and sufficient prey to sate her feline instincts. Yet here stood Machaira in a sweater, cooking her kill for a party and completely at ease with Adaine seeing her so vulnerable. Whatever circumstances had conspired to bring this about, Adaine was more intrigued by a placid, sweater-clad Machaira than she cared to admit.

"Time for the finishing touch." Machaira snapped Adaine out of her musings as she pulled a femur out of the oven. The tabaxi set the tray down, turned off the oven, and sniffed along the length of the bone before nodding. Apparently, the oven had just been there to keep the bone warm because she discarded her oven mitts to hold the femur with her bare hands. Machaira gripped the top of the femur with the side of her jaws and bit down. After a moment the bone cracked, and with a twist of her head the rogue tore away the bulbous femur joint. Adaine hadn't seen her friend do something like this since Kristen humiliated her in the cafeteria. She felt weirdly privileged that Machaira felt so at ease around her. The little voice that wanted to keep the others from seeing Machaira like this started to whisper again.

Adaine waited until the tabaxi had finished crunching down the ossified shards to pet her mane. Machaira never wanted to be touched while she was eating, something about a blink dog attack when she was younger. The tabaxi's satisfied growls mellowed into a fluttering purr, jaws that could remove Adaine's arm peacefully rubbing against her shoulder. Machaira poured the bone's marrow into the mushroom sauce and stirred, movements a little uncoordinated. Adaine took a step back, and the rogue mewed plaintively before refocusing on her work. After emptying the femur of the last dregs of marrow, she poured the fatty mushroom sauce over the sliced hippogriff haunch to mingle with the previous pool of juices. A wonderful aroma filled the room, and Machaira sighed with satisfaction.

"How did you learn how to do this?" Adaine asked.

"I've been cooking since I ran away from my parents," she responded, scattering bits of herbs and other plants Adaine couldn't name over the hippogriff. She never referred to her birthplace as home. "But this is maybe my third time cooking in a real kitchen instead of over an open fire." Machaira washed and dried her dagger, sliding the blade under the back of her sweater and out of sight.

"Did you just stick that knife up your ass?" Adaine teased. Machaira smirked, turned to the side, gripped the hem of her sweater in one hand, and used the other hand to pull up a thin slit of fabric, revealing a slice of thigh up to her hip. She then tugged a black leather strap down into view with her thumb. Adaine's brain stopped working entirely.

"I always keep a dagger on hand," she informed the elf. "Especially when I'm cooking. So much handier than a kitchen knife." She pushed the familiar strap for her dagger sheath back onto her waist and out of sight before pulling her sweater back down. Adaine heard her words, but they didn't register for a solid twenty seconds. She was too busy thinking about the implications of what she had just seen. Adaine was now fairly certain that Machaira was _only_ wearing her dagger under that sweater. For reasons her mind couldn't fully process, she very much wanted the rogue to bend over again. "Fabian and Gorgug should be at Fig's soon. I just have to clean up and get dressed, and we can eat."

"Let me pick up here," Adaine offered. "You can, um, go get dressed." At some level, Adaine would prefer to have sweater-Machaira all to herself for the rest of the day, but she needed to clear her head, and that wasn't going to happen while the rogue was still this fuzzy, cuddly kitten.

"Oh, thanks," Machaira accepted her offer easily. "I won't take long." She walked over to the laundry basket. Try as she might, Adaine couldn't resist watching the rogue's every step. The wizard forced herself to turn away when Machaira bent over to collect her clothes; but as the scout passed by on her way to the bathroom, Adaine did notice that she was holding a pair of small black panties. Adaine stared into the sink and took a few deep breaths. That was information that shouldn't matter. It didn't matter. There was no reason for her to feel flushed or for her sudden urge to fix her hair. Machaira was just her friend. Her friend who had a secret crush on her that Adaine now knew about. But Machaira was never going to act on it, so the fact that they had been in the same room while Machaira was barely dressed shouldn't be an issue. It wasn't an issue. She didn't need to keep thinking about it. It was just Fig's hot chocolate that made her feel so hot and breathless. Right.

Forcing Machaira to the back of her brain, Adaine was confronted with a new problem: she had never washed a dish in her life and had only a vague idea of how it worked. Fortunately, Machaira returned from the bathroom before Adaine could make too much of a fool out of herself. Even though she was back in her normal tattered jeans and wyvern scale jacket, the rogue still seemed cuddly to Adaine. The image of Machaira draped in that gigantic sweater was branded into her memory. But the normal attire helped drag Adaine's brain to almost full capacity, and the wizard was able to talk and joke with her friend as they usually did. Machaira cleaned the last of her mess in a matter of minutes, and Adaine helped her carry the food to Fig's place for dinner.

Machaira didn't tell the others what they were eating, but everyone enjoyed it, so Adaine saw no reason to say anything. The party fell about their normal chicanery and teasing for the next few hours until they got ready to count down for midnight. Kristen wanted one of the girls to give her a New Year's kiss. Fig agreed on the condition Kristen didn't get weird about it later and teased Riz and Fabian to do the same. Fabian backed away from Riz with the loud and verbose refusals typical of an insecure straight boy while Riz just snickered. Everyone had yet another laugh at their expense; but as midnight drew ever closer, Adaine couldn't help a small needle of sadness. She'd yet to have her first kiss, and Kristen was about to have her second or third. Gods only knew what number Fig was on. Gorgug at least had someone in mind who he might have been able to kiss come midnight; she didn't even have a potential candidate.

"Hey," Machaira broke into her reverie, sitting next to the high elf on the couch. "You looked kind of deep in thought there. Anything you want to talk about?" The rogue's voice was soft and unthreatening, her gaze supportive. In truth, Adaine didn't want to talk about it, but she found herself opening up anyway.

"It's stupid," she mumbled. Machaira sat a touch straighter and scooter closer. "I just, I haven't had my first kiss yet, and… I don't know. I wish I had. It feels important. I know the New Year's kiss is just a dumb tradition, but I don't, there's no one who, well… it's dumb." She glanced over at Machaira to see a trace of disappointment slip from the tabaxi's face, swept away by sympathy.

"You first kiss should be important," Machaira told her gently. "Your first kiss should be with someone who cares about you and who you care about in turn. It should be special because that person is special to you. But that's not something you need to rush. Adaine, you are an incredible person. Your first kiss should be with someone who recognizes that, someone you want to keep close to you. There will be other New Years to kiss someone on, but you only get one first kiss. Even so, your first kiss will be the first of many. If it isn't everything you thought it would be, you'll have more to look forward to."

Adaine stared into those golden eyes, soft with concern and undercut with grief. Machaira never could hide how she felt. The tabaxi squeezed her hand, and Adaine relaxed at the familiar scarred grip. Adaine still wasn't sure if she loved Machaira, but Machaira loved her. Of that she was sure. As everyone counted down from ten, shouts echoing throughout Strongtower, Adaine moistened her lips. She could have her first kiss here and now with someone who truly cared about her. The high elf recalled the image of Machaira in nothing but a sweater, willingly vulnerable and affectionate before Adaine. She began to lean forward. Machaira noticed her move, and the sorrow in her eyes intensified. Adaine hesitated.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Their party bellowed.

"Happy New Year," Adaine whispered, heart beating out of control. Fig and Kristen crashed their mouths together for a solid ten seconds, but Machaira neither moved nor broke eye contact.

"Dr. Asha is better," Fig announced as the girls broke apart, much to the pained hilarity of the party. Adaine's attention was briefly stolen by the rascally tiefling, and she almost missed Machaira's move. The scout leaned forward and kissed Adaine's cheek, just shy of her mouth. For a moment, Adaine could feel the impossibly gentle touch of Machaira's lips, softer than she expected. Machaira pulled away, gaze heavy with sadness. But she met Adaine's eyes and smiled more tenderly than her mother ever had, gently squeezing the wizard's hand again.

"Your first kiss should be one you give with confidence, not just because you can," she quietly corrected the wizard. Adaine realized too late how much this must hurt for Machaira. The rogue made a visible effort to put her pain aside, and the affection that replaced it was genuine. "Happy New Year, Adaine." She gave Adaine a hug and stood to rejoin the rest of the party. As the diviner watched her go, she realized that, put in the same position, she might not have made the same decision as Machaira. But, later, as Adaine lay alone in her room, she realized that was why she felt safe around Machaira: the tabaxi never treated her with anything less than love and respect.

_Adaine could always trust Machaira, no matter how insecure she felt, because Machaira would always put Adaine's well-being first, even if it hurt her to do so._

The winter break was beginning to draw to a close, and the party was planning a final movie night to celebrate before school started. So Adaine was a little surprised when Machaira asked her to hangout the day before the big event. She was even more surprised to when Machaira picked her up with a Lyft and brought her to the zoo. Their admission tickets together cost a whopping twenty gold, which the tabaxi paid herself. Machaira admitted that she had wanted to come to the zoo for a while and had been shoveling snow over the holidays to pay for this outing. Adaine told her that it wasn't necessary for the rogue to pay for her.

"I wanted to do something special for you," she replied simply. Adaine smiled and acquiesced, more than willing to follow Machaira's lead. Elmville's zoo wasn't world class, but it was still pretty big. The weather was cold but sunny. Adaine had donned a scarf and gloves in addition to her jacket, and Machaira assured her that she'd thrown on an extra layer under her wyvern scales. The girls spent a lovely day walking and chatting as they wandered from exhibit to exhibit.

Adaine was surprised again to find that Machaira knew quite a bit about animals from her time in the outlands. She could tell the wizard what a plesiosaur's favorite food was, how a mammoth herd defended itself from frost giants, and why dire wolves were aggressive toward humanoids but timber wolves were not. The tabaxi was a little shy about sharing, and Adaine had to ask an initial question to get the ball rolling. After a little while Machaira lost some of her nervousness and shared freely, though she clammed up quickly if she thought Adaine was growing bored or irate. At one point a zookeeper overheard Machaira talking and stepped up to extrapolate on something she had said. The keeper was very polite, and his knowledge was much more technical than Machaira's. But Adaine found that she was more interested in what her friend had to say and encouraged Machaira to talk to her about the next exhibit once he had left.

To Adaine's amusement, Machaira's favorite animals were the cats. The rogue's eyes lit up when they came upon their enclosures, and she jogged a little way ahead of Adaine to see the tigers. Adaine practically had to drag her away from the sabretooth exhibit, and they spent almost ten minutes by the jaguars as Machaira gushed over them. The scout also had a healthy respect for the wolves, bears, otters, and most of the other carnivores as well. The one exception seemed to be the lions, which Machaira almost completely dismissed.

"They're dicks," she said simply.

"Can you understand them?" Adaine asked. "I'm sorry if that's, like, a rude question."

"No, you're fine," Machaira assured her. "Wild cats don't have a language the way we do. But they do have a lot of body language in common with tabaxi, so I kinda know how they're feeling, if that makes sense." Adaine nodded and didn't pry any further. Machaira kept asking her where she wanted to go, but the wizard preferred to let Machaira make their decisions. She enjoyed the mild exercise and fresh air for a change. She enjoyed Machaira's company even more. The rogue had poured a lot of planning into this day and clearly wanted Adaine to have a good time. She even had a little money saved for the expensive zoo lunch.

Adaine toyed with the idea that this was Machaira's way of trying to take Adaine on a date, but Machaira was working overtime to dissuade that notion. The tabaxi shied away from any physical contact. She wouldn't even hold Adaine's hand which, while very disappointing, did establish that she was not secretly trying to ask Adaine out. The high elf wished Machaira would at least wrap her tail around Adaine's waist, but she understood where her friend was coming from. Machaira was trying to make sure today went perfectly for her, and she was scared Adaine might get creeped out if it looked like a date.

But the simple joy that shone in Machaira's eyes was a treat on its own, and Adaine hadn't had this much fun in ages. The zoo was quiet and clean enough for her taste while Machaira could be outside and surrounded by something she actually understood. The tabaxi had an extra spring in her step as she eagerly looked ahead to the next enclosure, tail almost permanently waving above her head. Adaine smiled, infected by her friend's childlike excitement. She could forgo their casual touches for a few hours if this was the reward. Seeing Machaira so happy filled her with warmth, and Adaine was content to simply walk with her and look at the animals. Or at least, she would have been but for one detail.

People kept heckling Machaira. Some people just glanced uneasily at her while others shot glares and whispered behind their hands. More than a few passersby commented that the tabaxi belonged in an exhibit, too. A little dwarf boy asked Machaira how she got out of her cage. The rogue very gently explained that she wasn't a zoo animal before Adaine could start yelling at a child. The boy's mother grabbed her son's arm and dragged him away, glaring at Machaira without apologizing. When Machaira explained to Adaine how dire wolf hunting strategies differed from those of big cats, a human couple with Helioic necklaces loudly commented that she probably knew this because she ate people. The scout clearly heard them but refused to engage, remaining focused on Adaine.

Machaira's eyes dimmed a bit whenever someone spoke along these lines, but she did not react otherwise save to flick her ears or lower her tail. The scout maintained her smile and good humor throughout their visit, giving the wizard all of her attention. Machaira was determined to be positive and well-behaved for Adaine, and it melted Adaine's heart to see how hard she was trying. Adaine attempted to ignore the assholes in kind, but each new insult sent her blood boiling. As the day wore on, the comments became harder and harder to dismiss. The worst part was that as much as Machaira loved the cats, such remarks were boldest and most numerous there. At the leopard exhibit, a bunch of guys started jeering at her.

"Are you here looking for a date or a place to live?" One of the assholes called out. Machaira's smile flickered, and her tail twitched lower. Adaine started to turn around, and the rogue put a hand on her bicep without actually grabbing her.

"They're idiots," she reminded Adaine. "They just want me to react."

"If he was talking to me that way, you'd have stabbed him by now," Adaine objected.

"Absolutely," Machaira responded without hesitation. "But people leave you alone once they know you're not a soft target. There will always be assholes who treat me like an animal." The boys started making exaggerated meowing noises at Machaira, and the girl next to them laughed obnoxiously. Adaine tried to turn on them again, and again Machaira blocked her. "No amount of magical vomiting will stop everyone from being dicks to me."

"But some vomiting will stop these dicks right now," Adaine argued.

"As much as I love watching you hex people, they're not worth it," Machaira asserted. "After today, you can defend my honor as violently as you want, I promise." The scout tried for another smile. "Do you want to go to another exhibit?"

"You know, I think the leopard is probably smarter," one of the boys hollered. "At least it doesn't pretend that it's a person." Machaira's gaze dulled, and Adaine turned, magic coursing through her body.

"Wait," Machaira begged. "Adaine, it's fine, really. I came here to have fun with you, and I am. Come on, I heard they have a giant saltwater crocodile in the reptile house, and I've always wanted to see one. I even have a little gold left for a stuffed animal from the gift shop." The scout's fur started to bristle, and she made a visible effort to flatten it. Machaira's eyes were wide and pleading, hand outstretched towards Adaine but not quite touching her. She had probably spent weeks saving up for this day, and she just wanted to have a nice time with Adaine. The wizard sighed and threw a glare at the boys before turning back to follow Machaira toward the reptile house in the distance. Machaira's golden gaze gleamed a shade brighter, tail and ears rising. Adaine's ire weakened, and she smiled at the excited tabaxi.

"Lesbian temper, you know," one of the assholes commented loudly behind them. "Though, when that tabaxi is in heat, she'll probably come back here to copulate with more than just the leopards." Ugly laughter washed over them. Machaira flinched, instinctively tucking her fangs under the collar of her jacket. Something inside Adaine cracked at that, and her vision went red.

Wizards rarely benefitted from surprise in combat, but Adaine fired Ray of Sickness so fast even Machaira didn't see it coming. The first guy dropped to his knees, vomiting with such force that chunks of bile sprayed off the ground around him. The second boy jumped back, and for the first time Adaine noticed that they were all high elves wearing Hudol sweatshirts. She even recognized one of them as a student in the year above them. The knowledge served only to further fuel her fire. Adaine had never cast Witch Bolt as a third level spell before, nor could she remember casting a critical damage spell, but she thoroughly enjoyed the combination. Hudol boy number two dropped before he could cry out, face blackened with soot and smoking from electrical burns. The girl took a step back and tried to run, but Adaine held out her hand and bent reality to her will. The girl's leg twisted over nothing as fate served the diviner's commands, and she fell with a scream. Her ankle was definitely sprained, possibly broken. Good. Adaine bore down on her, chains of destiny snaking into existence alongside her. The wizard began to chant a Burning Hands spell, rage helping her channel the destructive magic.

"Adaine, wait," Machaira called out behind her. Adaine turned to see Machaira's eyes wide with dismay, hand outstretched toward the diviner. Machaira's expression stayed Adaine's wrath long enough for zoo security to arrive and hold them both at arquebus point. All five teens were taken to a tiny holding cell for more than an hour and a half. Even though Adaine did all the damage, the overweight security guard frisked Machaira much more thoroughly, making the wizard positively venomous. When the administration found out that Adaine and Machaira were students at Aguefort, they were quick to release the girls on the condition that they leave the zoo immediately. Reading between the lines, it wasn't hard to see that they were not welcome to come back.

Machaira hardly said a word after Adaine attacked the Hudol students. After they were escorted from the zoo she turned and walked mutely toward the neighboring park. Adaine followed uncertainly. Machaira was clearly upset, but she didn't try to outwalk Adaine. Eventually the tabaxi found a tree and lay down on her stomach in its shade, legs drawn under her body and chin between her hands. Adaine hesitantly sat down beside her. Machaira stared ahead at nothing and did not acknowledge her presence. The elf's chest tightened.

"I'm sorry," Adaine whispered. "I, I just, you had this whole day planned out, and it was wonderful, and I… I fucked up. I'm sorry, I, I am so sorry. I just, I couldn't stand what they were saying about you, and I know I ruined everything. I am so, so sorry, I just, I, I – "

"It's okay," Machaira cut Adaine off before she could work herself into a panic. "It's okay."

"No, it isn't," Adaine insisted. "You set up this whole plan, and I ruined it." Machaira sighed and sat up, meeting Adaine's eyes tiredly.

"My plan was to hang out with you," she said quietly. "And I got to spend all day with my best friend. Goals achieved."

"Don't pretend that I didn't fuck up," Adaine protested. "You worked really hard to do something nice for me, and I got us kicked out of the zoo."

"Yes," the rogue admitted. "But you got us kicked out because you were trying to stand up for me. You're the only person who stands up for me. How can I be mad at you for that?" Machaira gave her a small smile. She was clearly still disappointed but didn't want Adaine to be upset, and that just made the high elf feel worse.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just hate the way those people treated you. I, I, I was so angry, and I – I should have listened to you. How do you put up with all of that?"

"People will always treat me like a beast, and it hurts," Machaira replied. "Especially since, in some ways, I am a beast. But I know whose opinions matter to me." Machaira's eyes took on a tender quality that both made Adaine want to hold her and afraid to touch her.

"I'm sorry," Adaine murmured again. Machaira reached out and took her hand gently.

"Apology accepted," she assured Adaine. "I really do appreciate you looking out for me like that. It, it means a lot. And you were pretty amazing back there. That spell work, terrifying, but, like, awesome terrifying." The tabaxi's smile was genuine, and Adaine felt her anxiety ease away, chest muscles relaxing. Adaine wanted to pet Machaira, but the rogue left enough distance between them to give her pause.

"So… what do you want to do?" The wizard asked instead. Machaira shrugged.

"I wanted to go to the zoo," she replied. Both girls winced. "No, I'm sorry, that was bitchy and uncalled for. I'm sorry. What I meant was that the zoo was kind of my whole plan. I didn't think of anything else for us to do. I just wanted to give you one really good day before school started, just the two of us. But spending time with you is the important part. I want to do whatever you want to do. No," she interrupted Adaine's dissent with a raised hand. "We already did my thing for the day, and that was all I had. I don't care what we do so long as you have fun." Adaine could see that Machaira would not budge. She grinned at her stubborn friend and stood, holding out a hand to help her up.

"I always have fun with you," she informed the scout. Machaira smiled and took her hand, and with that all was forgiven. Adaine took Machaira to get mediocre tacos from a new place that they'd talked about going to for a while. Afterward they went to an equally average movie that they would hardly remember a thing from a week later. They didn't cuddle or pet each other or even hold hands. But when the Lyft dropped them off near (not at, obviously) Adaine's house, the tabaxi gave her a long hug.

"Goodnight, Adaine," Machaira murmured. "This was a great day."

"It really was," the high elf whispered back, arms secure around Machaira's waist. Machaira rubbed her back in soft circles, and Adaine sighed noiselessly, burying her nose in Machaira's mane, at peace with the world if only for a moment.

_Machaira wasn't petty. She knew how to let bygones be bygones. Adaine's family never let her forget a mistake, but Machaira always forgave Adaine. Machaira was every bit Adaine's friend, even when things weren't perfect between them._

School had been in session for a week. Fabian and Gorgug were thrilled to be on the Owlbear Bloodrush team for reasons Adaine couldn't quite figure out. Since Gorthalax was their new coach, Fig had taken to spending quite a bit of time hanging around the field. Riz would come over to hang out with Fabian after practice, which meant that the Bloodrush bleachers was their new unofficial meeting place after school. Adaine wasn't thrilled about this development, but she still got to hang out with her party after school instead of going home. The wizard normally spent the time between sixth period and the end of Bloodrush practice hanging out with Machaira and occasionally Kristen or Fig.

Friday evening was an unofficial holiday among the party. Ostensibly, the plan was to go to Strongtower for a late-night movie and takeout. Kristen was out with Tracker but had promised to meet up with them later that night. The reality was that Fabian and Gorgug lingered to talk to Gorthalax, and Fig, anxious to be part of the sports stuff with her dad, started a rough game of full tackle tag under the pretense of training. Fig was nowhere near physically fit enough to go up against either boy, but she tried her best to run them down and slap them anyway. If she fell or got tackled too hard, the bard called on her dad to declare the move illegal. Gorthalax rarely acquiesced to her demands but clearly enjoyed seeing his daughter happy and active.

Riz and Machaira were quick to join the melee as well. Riz wasn't big enough to bring down the others, but he was quick enough to avoid being caught. The goblin also had a knack for tripping people at the perfect moment, much to Fabian's frustration. Machaira was also quite a bit smaller than everyone sans Riz, but she was athletic enough to attack them head on. The tabaxi chuffed and growled with cheerful abandon as she chased and wrestled the boys, deriving equal joy from her victories and defeats.

Adaine sat on the bleachers and watched the show. Part of her wanted to join in the fun, but she was even less athletic than Fig. The high elf had always been told to focus on developing her mind over her body, so she had spent little if any time playing such games as a child. Trying to join in now made her uncomfortable, especially since the others were all in better shape than she was. The wizard could have pretended that her friends were just being immature. A few months ago, she would have done just that. But Adaine was honest enough to admit that she was really too afraid of looking dumb or weak in front of her friends to join in. She felt especially lonely since Machaira had been in the gym for hours after school practicing to earn her Charger Feat, so Adaine had to spend the past few hours alone in the library. Everyone needed to earn 'feat credit' outside of normal class time for refining or excelling in a particular skill set during their first year at Aguefort. Adaine had already passed her Spell Sniper exam. She understood that Machaira had to practice to pass the Charger test, but she still missed the rogue's company.

Adaine watched as Fabian shoved Machaira's shoulder from behind and took off. The scout yowled and gave chase, running the fighter down and leaping onto his back. Machaira wrestled Fabian beneath her much as she had the werewolf in the Black Pit, though she kept her claws sheathed against the half-elf. The two writhed and grappled until Machaira was able to seize Fabian from behind with all four limbs. The tabaxi heaved herself back and forth, rolling to one side and whipping to the other, rattling Fabian. After a few seconds of this she kicked Fabian off and rolled away with a bark, tail snaking madly behind her. Adaine smirked and giggled. She rarely got to see Machaira both happy and high energy. Her friend had devolved into a giant, frisky kitten, and Adaine loved it.

Machaira stood straight and looked over at Adaine. She always refocused on the wizard if Adaine was crying or laughing. Machaira started to back away from the others and said something to Fabian. The fighter yelled something indistinct but indignant in return, and Machaira turned away, jogging up to Adaine.

"Hey, mind if I sit with you?" Machaira asked, sitting next to Adaine and one step lower so that she could lean her back against Adaine's bleacher.

"No, but why aren't you out there with everyone else having fun?" Adaine challenged.

"Why aren't you?" Machaira countered simply. Adaine flushed. "I know this isn't really your thing, but you might have fun. And you don't have to wrestle if you don't want to." The wizard pressed her lips together. She wanted to play, but she didn't want Machaira or the others to feel like she needed special treatment.

"No, I'm fine," she lied. "But don't stop having fun just because of me. Go back and down there and kick Fabian's ass."

"I always have fun when I'm with you," Machaira asserted. "Besides, I kick Fabian's ass every day during fifth period." A little warm glow bloomed inside the diviner at that. "So, tell me about that conjuration project you mentioned at lunch." Machaira stayed and chatted with Adaine until the others were ready to go to Strongtower. As they descended the bleachers, Adaine flashed the rogue a small smile, hoping to convey her gratitude without words. Machaira smirked and shoulder bumped her, tail brushing against her legs.

_Machaira went out of her way to make Adaine feel included, even when the wizard was too shy to do so on her own._

There is an unspoken rule that no girl should ever let her friend go to the bathroom alone. Although men tended to make light of this, the truth is that no woman is ever really safe alone. As horrific and unfair as this reality was, Adaine was very grateful her friends adhered to this rule so strictly. All four girls would go to the bathroom together at the Black Pit, but Machaira was Adaine's silent shadow wherever she had to pee. Fig and Kristen also followed this rule to the letter, but Machaira sometimes departed for the bathroom without saying anything and went unnoticed by the others. None of the girls worried about this too much until shortly before the winter break when a drow junior followed Machaira into the bathroom, put on a fox mask, and came onto her. The scout had dragged her mauled victim out into a hallway of appalled students, dumped him in the boys' bathroom, and walked straight to Goldenhoard to inform him of the incident. Machaira's injuries had been superficial at worst, but it served to remind them that they had this rule for a reason.

During their second week back at school, Adaine was fulfilling her duty as Machaira's bathroom buddy just as she had dozens of times before. The rogue was washing her hands and telling Adaine a story about how she had accidently confused Gorgug with some advice she gave him on how to talk to Zelda.

"Did he ask if you were his dad?" The wizard queried. Machaira laughed and beamed at her.

"No, but there was a moment where I was sure he would." She replied, golden eyes dancing with mirth. Machaira started to turn back to the sink and froze, staring at herself in the mirror. The humor died from her gaze. The tabaxi curled her lip the way she did when she smelled something bad or when Adaine talked about Aelwyn. Her face tightened into a disappointed grimace. The expression lasted for only a moment before Machaira looked resolutely into the sink and finished washing her hands. The rogue finished her story, explaining that she corrected Gorgug's confusion and no lasting damage had been done, before she led the way out of the bathroom.

Adaine realized that in the months she had accompanied Machaira to the bathroom, the scout didn't use the mirror. She didn't use makeup, and she could smooth her fur at will. But Machaira never looked in the mirror. When Adaine stepped out of a stall and Machaira was waiting for her, she would be staring at the wall or ceiling or floor. When Machaira went to wash her hands, she kept her head down or to the side. Machaira didn't want to see herself. She had told Adaine that she checked her reflection in a stream behind her camp in the morning, but the wizard never saw her willing look at her reflection.

_I'm just a stray that was too mean and ugly to get taken in_. When Machaira looked at herself, she saw something ugly and unwanted. When she looked in the mirror, Machaira saw what she had been told she was. It made Adaine angry. She wanted to drag her friend back to the mirror and shake her until the rogue saw what Adaine saw. Because Adaine saw a girl, a woman worth respecting. Adaine saw someone strong enough to survive the worst life had to throw at her. Adaine saw compassion that had weathered the most extreme of cruelty. Adaine saw power. She saw the predator that ate hippogriffs and the person who went out of her way to be kind to a panicking elf on the first day of school. When Adaine saw Machaira, she saw the sun rising over a cold world. Her scars would catch the light and glimmer like white streams across the gentle tawny of her fur, little black rosettes peeking in and out of view as she moved. Adaine wanted Machaira to see herself the way Adaine saw her.

But telling Machaira any of this felt dangerous, like the high elf was teetering on the edge of a precipice that she couldn't see the bottom of. Adaine couldn't even say, out loud or to herself, that the tabaxi was beautiful. She worried that voicing these things might lead to other discussions, to exploring strange feelings that choked her when she tried to understand them. So Adaine said nothing and hated herself for allowing Machaira to think this way.

And when Machaira asked her what was wrong, all Adaine could say was that she didn't know how to explain it. Machaira held her hand, and when the high elf squeezed she took Adaine's other hand. And when Adaine leaned forward, Machaira held her. The rogue did not demand an explanation for Adaine's emotional distress, only made herself present and available. That Adaine could not tell her friend how wonderful she was physically hurt the wizard. So she hugged Machaira back and prayed that the rogue would understand how much Adaine cared about her. But the next time they went to the bathroom, Machaira subtly averted her eyes from the mirror, and Adaine didn't know how to make her see what the diviner saw in its reflection.

_Adaine couldn't always express how she felt about Machaira. A thought, a feeling, lay buried under a chaotic whirlwind of half-understood anxieties. All she knew for sure was that the tabaxi was important to her, more so than even her party_.

"You okay there?" Adaine asked.

"Yeah, just fine," Machaira grunted, straining to pull a book from her rucksack. The bag was overstuffed and stretched too tightly to properly close. The book Machaira wanted slid from her bag at the pace of a lazy glacier, held back by the pressure of the tomes around it. The rogue heaved, and the book rose out a little faster. With a final groan, Machaira yanked the book from her bag with such force that the rest of her things exploded out as well.

"Shit." Machaira muttered, kneeling down to collect a handful of loose writing instruments. Adaine smirked and began picking up textbooks. She noticed that Machaira had more of them than she normally did. Three titles in particular stood out as unusual: _Advanced Divination Magic, Divination Theory Explained, _and_ Divination for Dummies_. Adaine looked over at Machaira. The tabaxi had frozen with one hand stuffing a pair of notebooks into her bag, ears back and tail skittering as she met Adaine's questioning gaze.

"Machaira, are you thinking about taking up divination?" Adaine asked. Machaira's throat and cheeks reddened.

"No, but – promise you won't get mad?" The scout pleaded. Adaine nodded. "When you tell me about, like, your classes and magic and stuff, I, I never understand what you're talking about; and then you have to go back and explain everything to me. I thought I could do a little study on my own and learn enough to keep up a conversation with you."

"So, you got three books just to understand my coursework?" Adaine reiterated, warmth trickling through her body. Machaira shrunk inward and glanced at the ground.

"Well, you mentioned that you were reading _Advanced Divination Magic_, so I started with that. But I, it was, I was still confused, so I got the theory book. But that was still really complicated, so I got _Divination for Dummies_." Machaira's voice became faster until it dropped to a mumble, red glowing under her white cheek fur like a Valentine.

"You didn't have to do all of that," Adaine told her. "I like talking to you about my classes. But that was really sweet." Machaira whispered something to her boots that Adaine couldn't pick up. "So, what did you learn?" Machaira's tail snaked around her ankles.

"Nothing," she murmured. "I couldn't even understand _Divination for Dummies_." The tabaxi rolled her shoulders in and held out her hands for the books Adaine had gathered. The diviner set the books down and took Machaira's hands.

"If you wanted to learn more about divination, why didn't you just ask me?" Adaine asked. "I would be happy to teach you."

"I, I wanted to surprise you," Machaira admitted quietly. "Magic is important to you, and I wanted to be able to talk to you about it without forcing you to explain every little detail." Adaine heard the bitterness in her voice and squeezed Machaira's hands.

"Wizard magic is really complicated, especially divination," she told the rogue. "It's a difficult subject to just jump into. But if you really want to learn, you could audit my fourth period divination class." Machaira murmured something about not wanting to step on her toes. "No, it'll be so much fun to have you in my class!"

Adaine needed to remember to read the future before she made promises.

When the wizard walked into her fourth period divination class two days later, Machaira was already there talking to their instructor. More than a few students were shooting the rogue odd looks and whispering to each other. It was rare that anyone tried to multi-class divination due to its complex and somewhat unreliable nature. Before Adaine got close enough to hear what they were saying, the teacher conjured a desk in the back corner of the room and gestured for the rogue to sit there. Machaira nodded and moved to take her seat. Adaine changed course to intercept her friend.

"Hey," she greeted. "Are you here to audit the class? Why are you sitting way back here?"

"He said something about not wanting me to distract the regular students," Machaira explained, taking out one of her battered notebooks.

"Maybe I could convince him to let you sit next to me?" Adaine suggested.

"Miss Abernant," the teacher called over the end of her sentence. "Please take your seat. You can gossip with your friend during lunch."

"Guess not," Adaine mumbled, fast walking to her desk and pretending that she wasn't blushing at being called out. She quickly realized that this would be a bad lesson for Machaira to sit in on. The subject matter of the day required a fairly in-depth knowledge of spell-crafting and magic allotment, neither of which the rogue had a background in. But every time Adaine glanced over at Machaira, which was about every thirty seconds, the tabaxi was either jotting down a note or staring directly at the teacher. Everything was normal until the teacher posed a question for the class.

"Who can explain why casting a simple, or 'low-level' spell, with the raw magical energy necessary to elevate its effects is unwise?" Adaine and a few other students raised their hands. "Perhaps our visitor knows?" The teacher stared directly at Machaira's corner. Adaine turned with the rest of the class to see the tabaxi had frozen with her pencil in one hand, other hand holding the notebook flat. She blinked at their teacher, digesting the question. "Do you have a guess for us, Miss Mekhit?" Adaine crossed her fingers under the desk, silently rooting for her friend.

"Um… is it that it drains you too much?" Machaira ventured. "Like, casting a low-level spell as a higher-level spell costs too much energy to be worth the better effects?" The teacher arched an eyebrow and _hmm_'d.

"An over-simplified but at least partially correct answer. Higher-energy spells, or high-level spells, are more complicated by design and provide superior utility. Most low-energy, or low-level spells, are simpler and less effective by nature. For example, Witch Bolt can be cast to deal the same raw damage as Lightning Bolt, but Lightning Bolt will still have greater range. Do you understand?" Machaira nodded. "I would hope that you might learn at least the basics of spellcasting before attempting to learn such an advanced branch of magic."

As the teacher turned back to the board, Adaine seethed. Okay, so Machaira hadn't been exactly correct, but she also wasn't wrong. And everyone had to start somewhere. Adaine fumed for the rest of class, scowling at the back of her teacher's head and stabbing her notebook every time an _i_ needed to be dotted. But when she glanced over at Machaira, the scout remained calm, quietly scribbling notes and paying close attention to the topic at hand. When the bell rang for lunch, Adaine stuffed her books into her bag, shoved aside the normal crowd of students who wanted her opinion on some bit of magical theory, and stomped her way to Machaira.

"I am so sorry about him," Adaine apologized. "That was really uncalled for." Machaira shrugged.

"I'm used to it," she said, inadvertently feeding the high elf's indignation. "Besides, I'm glad I came. I am." She restated when Adaine looked at her funny. "I feel like I learned something. At least, I learned that one thing."

"You're not even going to multi-class as a wizard," Adaine objected. "Why would that matter?"

"It matters to you," Machaira reminded her. "I'm never going to use this stuff, but I want to understand it so that I can talk to you about it." The tabaxi was somewhat subdued, but she offered the wizard a little smile as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Adaine grinned in return, her irritation evaporating.

"Come on, let's go meet up with the party," she suggested. "And next time you have questions, just ask me. I like talking to you about my life."

"Deal," Machaira agreed.

_Even though they valued magical competence almost as much as social status, Adaine's family dismissed her studies as unimportant because she wasn't at Hudol. But Machaira cared about Adaine; if something was important to her, the tabaxi would respect it._

"Come on, Adaine, it's not hard."

"Not for you," Adaine shot back, drawing her arms over her chest. "There is no way I'm doing this. I don't even know why I came this far."

"Because you can't be defeated by a stick?" Machaira tried.

"It's not the stick that'll defeat me; it's the six meters of empty space between the stick and the ground." Adaine peeked over the edge of the wooden platform at the floor below. Machaira had asked her to come to one of the training rooms with her. There the rogue had introduced her to a terrifying structure composed of two wooden towers about ten meters apart that could be climbed via a stairway, connected at the top by a wooden beam eight centimeters wide. Machaira who could climb most vertical surfaces almost as easily as she could walk on level ground, simply strolled over the beam, turned around, and asked Adaine to join her.

"If you fall, I'll catch you," Machaira promised. "But you won't fall."

"Of course I'll fall," the wizard snapped. "I'm clumsy, and that beam is way too narrow." Her chest tightened just thinking about it. Her legs felt weaker. She started to shake.

"Adaine." Machaira's voice was quiet but firm. "Look at me." Adaine met her gaze. Golden eyes met her own squarely, filled with confidence. "You got this." There was no doubt in the tabaxi's voice. "Stand up straight." Adaine obeyed instinctively, maintaining eye contact. "Arms at your side, shoulders squared." Again, the high elf followed her orders as if in a dream. "Relax your shoulders. This isn't something you have to be afraid of."

"I disagree." She argued, voice small as her breaths shortened. Heat drained from her body, hairs rising on the back of her neck.

"It's fine to be afraid. I'm afraid every day." Machaira never lied. Adaine could see the truth in every word as she spoke. "But this isn't something you should be afraid of. You're Adaine Abernant, and you can walk across a stupid stick."

"But what if I can't?"

"I know you can." Machaira had full faith in her, and it showed. "Relax your shoulders, and step up to the beam." Adaine didn't want to move, but she found herself already standing at the edge of the platform, toes aligned with the start of the wooden beam. She peered down at the ground, stomach churning. Her vision began to swim. "Adaine, look at me." She immediately gravitated toward Machaira's voice and the safety it represented. The tabaxi's golden eyes were soft. "Look only at me. The floor doesn't matter so long as you put one foot directly in front of the other and come to me." She held out her arms for a hug, and Adaine's thumping heart ached to join her. She stepped forward onto the balance beam, and wobbled. Adaine yelped, heart pounding to escape her chest. She started to look down, body pitching forward.

"Adaine." The high elf jerked her eyes back to Machaira's. "Stop and get your bearings." Adaine froze, panicked brain latching onto a voice she trusted intuitively. The wizard straightened, standing properly upright again, arms at her side but slightly flared for balance. "This isn't a race. Just put one foot in front of the other whenever you feel ready, and come to me." For a minute, Adaine didn't move, hypnotized by Machaira's calm, golden gaze. Then, as if in a trance, she slid her left leg around her right and took another step forward.

"Why am I doing this?" She whispered rhetorically.

"Because you are so much stronger than you think you are," Machaira answered anyway. "I want you to see that."

"How is walking a balance beam supposed to make me strong?" She objected, taking another step forward.

"It doesn't." Machaira admitted. "Your parents are pretentious assholes, and your sister is a cunt. High school fucking sucks, and we've been through way too much shit for kids our age. And the entire time I've known you, you have done nothing but kick ass." Machaira smirked, affection clear on her face. Adaine took another step forward. "There is nothing wrong with being nervous or scared. Your anxiety doesn't control you. You've proven that time and time again on the field of combat. But I want you to see that even without the high stakes of life and death, you're stronger than your fears. Adaine Abernant kicks ass in life, not just in battle."

"But what if I screw up?" Adaine asked, nearly whispering. She kept walking across the beam heel to toe, each step covering the minimal amount of distance. The wizard remained fixed on those golden eyes, unblinking as they called her forth.

"Sometimes you will," Machaira admitted. "When that happens, you'll get up, dust yourself off, and keep going. Everyone fucks up. But your family couldn't stop you from being a great wizard. Torek Railgrinder couldn't stop you from chaining down Crush. Coach Daybreak couldn't stop you from saving Riz and stopping the apocalypse. You got hit, you got up, and you wrecked face. That's what you do. And if you fall, I'll always be there to catch you and help you get back up. But, honestly, you don't need my help – " Machaira leaned forward and embraced Adaine. The high elf slid her arms around Machaira's neck as the rogue picked her up and swung her around to the center of the platform. Adaine hadn't realized how much progress she had made, she had been so focused on reaching Machaira. "But I'll be there for you just the same."

Adaine stared down at Machaira, still mesmerized by warmth of her gaze. She looked away, over the edge of the platform. The drop to the floor no longer seemed scary. Her breathing was steady. Her heart slowed to an easier tempo. She looked back at Machaira, returning her attention to those yellow eyes, filled with pride, pride in her. Adaine found herself smiling,

"One day, Adaine, you're going to take the world by storm," Machaira told her, voice rippling with joy for her. "I just want to be there to see it." Warmth returned as Adaine beheld her friend in silence. She hugged Machaira again, silently rejoicing as the fluffy tail wound about her waist.

_Machaira believed in Adaine more than anyone ever had. She knew Adaine was going to be okay even when Adaine didn't. She didn't try to run the wizard's life. Machaira just stayed by her side to support her and catch her if she fell._

"Hey, don't those guys go to Aguefort, too?" Adaine looked where Kristen was pointing. They had gone to Basrar's after Bloodrush practice, and the parlor had a respectable number of customers eager to round out their dinner with the best ice cream in Elmville. Three boys about their age were just sitting down a few booths over, talking and laughing as they waited for the djinn to take their orders.

"Yeah, that guy with the red shirt sits next to me in my divination specialist class," Adaine confirmed.

"You mean the hot high elf?" Fig asked, kneeling on the booth to see better.

"Uh, yeah, I mean, I guess, yeah," Adaine stammered, blushing.

"Didn't you say that the guy who sits next to you in fourth period is, like, super cute?" Kristen recalled. "Is that him?"

"Well, I mean, I, kind of, he's pretty, yes." The wizard's voice became mousy until she squeaked. The rest of the party started craning their necks to get a better look at him.

"I mean, I guess he's hot for a dude," Kristen admitted, snickering along with the others.

"No, that's a handsome guy," Riz confirmed.

"I mean, er, he's fine, I suppose, for Adaine," Fabian stuttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The wizard demanded petulantly.

"Well, I, uh, he, he's a good-looking guy but you – you can do so much better," Fabian quickly backpedaled. Adaine glared at him suspiciously. "No, I mean, really, he's, you know, decent, but – "

"He's hot." Fig settled bluntly. "Adaine, do you have a crush on him?" The diviner blushed. "Ooooooooh."

"All I said was that he was cute," Adaine tried to correct the tiefling.

"What's his name?" She asked.

"Jason."

"Oooh, that's a good name," Kristen piped up.

"I mean, I've barely spoken to him," Adaine protested.

"But you did say you thought he was super cute," Fig clarified. Adaine shrank inward a little but nodded, grinning sheepishly. A flicker of motion from the corner of her eye caught the wizard's attention. She turned just in time to see Machaira try to cover the disappointment in her eyes, blinking and smiling until she appeared just as interested and supportive as the others, but Adaine could still see a trace of sadness there.

"What's he like?" The tabaxi asked, doing her best to seem cheerful.

"I mean, he's really smart, but again I, I've barely talked to him," she babbled, staring down at the table.

"Why not go talk to him now?" Fig asked.

"Yeah, Adaine, don't be shy," Kristen encouraged. "Go talk to him. You're even hotter than he is." The cleric gave her a creepy exaggerated wink that made Adaine cringe, much to the party's entertainment.

"Yeah, if you like him, go talk to him," Gorgug advised quietly.

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," Fabian teased. Fig, Adaine, and Kristen leapt to the half-orc's defense at once, drowning each other out in a babble of protests.

"But that's really good advice," Fig finally spoke over the other girls. "Go in there and get him!"

"What if I don't want to?" Adaine objected.

"Don't be shy," Kristen repeated.

"It's not that, I, just, I mean, he's cute, but – "

"Gorgug, Fabian, Riz, come outside with me." Machaira declared, walking up to the table. The other six adventurers started. Adaine hadn't noticed the rogue leave the table.

"What the fuck?" Fabian gasped.

"Where did you – " Gorgug began.

"Outside, with me, now." The tabaxi commanded.

"What – " Riz started.

"Hsssssssssss," Machaira spat, baring her fangs. The goblin jumped.

"Jesus," Fabian cried, hand to his heart.

"Hsssssss! Hsssssss! Hssssssss!" Machaira rasped, whiskers rotating forward.

"Okay, okay, okay," Fabian put up his hands. The boys wormed their way out of the booth and followed the scout outside. The three remaining girls stared at each other. Clearly Adaine wasn't the only one who felt like she was missing a piece of the puzzle.

"What was that about?" Kristen asked.

"I have no idea," Adaine admitted, trying to see the other four members of their group through the window. Unfortunately, from her position the orange glare of streetlights rendered the window useless. Fig looked about the parlor, stiffened, and whirled back to Adaine with an excited smile. The high elf had about half of a second to wonder what had gotten into her friends when she noticed Jason heading toward their booth and staring directly at Adaine. The wizard turned to her friends for help, but the massive shit-eating grins that they flashed her only made Adaine want to hide in her jacket.

"Uh, hey, you're Adaine, right?" Jason began, trying for a smile that only came out a little nervous.

"Uh, hi, yeah, that's me," Adaine agreed quietly, racking her brain for a way not to be uncomfortable here.

"I'm Jason," Jason unnecessarily explained. "I sit next to you in fourth period."

"I know," Adaine informed him. She heard the bluntness of her own voice from outside her body. Jason started to look a little put out. "You're one of the best students in our class." Adaine added quickly. Maybe a little overkill, but she didn't want to seem rude.

"Thanks, you're, like, crazy smart too, right?" Jason tried to regain his footing.

"I am," Adaine confirmed. Fig snorted. "I mean, yeah, I, I know magic." Adaine tried to downplay her bragging. Kristen giggled. "Um, sorry, these are my party mates, Fig and Kristen."

"Nice to meet you," Fig said, holding out her hand and reigning in her amusement. The bard lived to create chaos, but she was still a nice girl with common sense.

"So, what are you doing here, Jason?" Kristen asked without preamble. Adaine shot her a glare.

"Um, getting ice cream – "

"No, I mean here with Adaine," Kristen clarified, waggling her eyebrows and nodding. Jason blushed, and Adaine prayed a magic portal would open up and swallow her.

"Um, your friend, the tabaxi, told me – I mean," Jason stuttered over himself a bit, blushing harder. "She told me that – she said you thought I was handsome." He finished in a rush, paused, and took a deep breath. "So, I thought I would, you know, ask you out. As in a date. Do you want to go out sometime?" Adaine blinked at Jason, processing his question, before looking over at her friends. Kristen and Fig beamed at Adaine. Jason smiled at her. He really was handsome.

_You got this_. Fig told Adaine via a Message spell. Adaine took a moment to appreciate the situation. Jason was a talented, high elf divination wizard who had just asked her out: no pick-up lines, no bullshit, just straight up asked her on a date. He wasn't dressed ostentatiously, but his clothes were definitely nicer than most of their classmates could afford. This was a fantasy she had had since she was eleven. This was every female high elf's fantasy ever. Honestly, she was more than a little flattered even with Machaira's meddling. Adaine smiled.

"No," she said calmly. Jason blinked and frowned, crestfallen and confused. "I'm sorry. You're very nice, and you are handsome, but I, I don't want to go out with you." A year ago, she would have said yes. Two months ago, she would have said yes. From Fig and Kristen's gaping stares of uncomprehending shock, they expected her to say yes.

"Oh, okay." Jason shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to do with himself. "Well, bye, then." He turned and walked back to his friends. Adaine felt only the smallest, faintest breath of remorse at seeing him leave, mostly about what the others in the party and in class might think about her. Fig and Kristen watched him go for a few seconds before turning on Adaine, mouths moving silently for a few seconds.

"Why did you do that?" Fig asked. "I thought you liked him?"

"I said he was cute," Adaine corrected her. "I did not say that I had a crush on him."

"So?" Kristen asked. "You still could have…" She mimed something halfway between sashaying and thrusting. The other girls leaned away from her. "I mean, he could have been fun. You know, like a casual dating sort of thing…"

"I just… didn't want to." Adaine explained. "I wasn't excited that he asked me out. Yeah, sure, it was a good ego boost, but I could go on a date with him the same way I could maybe rewatch an episode of an old TV show or something." Adaine's friends stared blankly at her. The diviner shrugged, wishing the attention would go somewhere else. "I don't know. He didn't do it for me." Kristen and Fig stared at each other for a moment, before they turned back to Adaine with bright smiles that very clearly said, _you're crazy, but you're our friend, so we are honor-bound to support your romantic decisions_.

"Well, you know, good for you, Adaine," Kristen told her. "You can do better anyway."

"If you don't want him, you don't want him," Fig summarized, taking a swig from her flask.

"Thanks guys," Adaine smiled at them and picked up Machaira's malt. She took a gulp and almost gagged. The tabaxi always got a giant chocolate, hazelnut, and vanilla blend malt. While very tasty, Machaira's malt was rich even by Basrar's standards. The wizard squinted her eyes as the chunk of dairy goodness impacted her stomach. How on earth did her friend drink these so quickly?

"Um, Adaine, that's not yours," Kristen informed her.

"I know," she replied. "I'm punishing Machaira for meddling. Also, more ice cream for me."

"No, that was sweet," Kristen protested.

"Don't be that girl who drowns her sorrows in ice cream," Fig teased.

"I'm not," Adaine declared. "I'm that girl who doesn't need someone to set her up." She took another deep draught of Machaira's malt, skin shivering as the thick rivers of sugar and cream filled her stomach. While the high elf preferred plain shakes to malts, she had to admit that Machaira had great taste. Fig shrugged, toasted her, and took samples from everyone else's ice cream. Kristen joined her, though they only dented the remaining food instead of devouring it. Even slurping at top speed, Adaine barely managed to finish Machaira's desert before she led the boys back inside.

"Yes, Machaira," Fabian began in a loud, clear voice as they neared the booth. "That was very interesting. Thank you for showing us."

"Yeah, that was a cool thing," Riz continued only somewhat more believably.

"We were sufficiently distracted," Gorgug added helpfully. Machaira's unimpressed expression could make most creeps rethink their life's choices, but it only sparked laughter among the party. As the boys slid back into the booth, Machaira lifted her empty malt glass for inspection.

"I deserved that." She stated, indirectly confessing to her interference.

"Yes, you did," Adaine confirmed as the scout sat down. "I don't need you to throw guys my way."

"So, he actually came over and talked to you?" Machaira inferred.

"Don't change the subject," Adaine commanded.

"When are you going out?" Machaira disobeyed. She smiled at Adaine, trying to be cheerful, but her eyes were dull, whiskers and tail dragging. Fabian and Riz looked from the girls to each other to their ice cream and decided to stay focused on the third choice.

"We're not." Adaine told her. "He asked, and I said no." Machaira blinked, surprise washing everything else from her gaze. The boys briefly looked up before remembering that they were supposed to be feigning indifference. "Just because he's cute doesn't mean I have a crush on him. I don't need you to ask boys out for me."

"I didn't," Machaira denied calmly. "I told him you thought he was cute."

"Why would you tell him that?" Adaine demanded.

"I thought you liked him, and I want you to be happy." Machaira said simply. "But you're right, it wasn't my place to interfere, and I'm sorry." For a few seconds the group sat in silence. Fig repressed a smile, looking back and forth between them. Adaine tried to stay mad, but her irritation dissolved in the face of Machaira's candor. The rogue held up her empty malt glass. "Call it even?"

"Okay," Adaine relented, pulling her own shake closer to her chest. Machaira smirked and laughed, and the evening carried on. The tabaxi didn't touch Adaine until the wizard snuggled up next to her to escape the cold. Adaine smiled at Machaira as she slung her arm around the scout's waist, letting her know that they were okay. Machaira gave her a soft, warm smile in return and kept an arm around Adaine's waist or shoulders for the rest of the night.

Eventually they made their way back to the Gukgak apartment for movie night. Fig convinced them that they should try to fit everyone on the couch, which, after a little trial and error, they managed to do. Adaine insisted on sitting on the cushions and eventually won her spot there along with Fabian and Gorgug. Fig and Kristen made themselves comfortable on the arms of the couch, while Riz sat on Fabian's lap. Machaira, who was much too heavy to sit on top of one person but too small to see over anybody's shoulder, assured them that she had a plan once the others got into position. The tabaxi took off her boots, treated herself to a long, luxurious stretch that made her whole body quiver, and lay down over everyone sitting on the three main cushions. Riz laughed and Fabian protested as Machaira slunk across their laps, curling part way onto her side to lay her head and shoulders in Adaine's lap. The couch sagged but ultimately held their combined weight.

"Mmmmm," Machaira hummed, kneading her claw tips in Adaine's jeans.

"Comfy?" Adaine teased.

"Very," Machaira murmured, shifting to press her head into Adaine's chest. The wizard laughed and scratched her behind the ears. Machaira tilted her head up and into Adaine's hand. She began to purr, and Adaine's concerns dissolved as the world was reduced to herself, her friends, and the tabaxi under her hands. Fig snickered, and chuckles drifted from the others as the deep vibrations began to take effect, soothing the primal anxieties that dogged their subconscious. Machaira wrapped her arms around Adaine's legs, and the high elf dug her fingers deep into Machaira's ruff, drawing forth louder purrs.

"Hey, Adaine, will you play with my hair if I sit in your lap?" Fig asked with an impish grin.

"Sure," Adaine giggled. The tiefling tried to nudge Machaira's head out of the way, and the tabaxi curled her lips, exposing hooked teeth. She cracked open a yellow eye and shot the bard a sleepy glare.

"My lap," she rumbled, too relaxed to properly growl.

"Oh really?" Fig challenged.

"Mm-hmm." Machaira laid her head back down and closed her eyes, rubbing her head against Adaine's stomach.

"Isn't it my lap?" Adaine inquired with a grin.

"No, this is my lap." Machaira corrected her, voice falling into a drowsy hum. Adaine laughed.

"Sorry, Fig," she amended. Accepting that this was her life now, the wizard gave the tabaxi little scritches around her ears and jaw and was rewarded with a purr that made the whole couch shiver. Any desire Adaine might have had to move was consumed by the warmth that Machaira's purr built within her. Adaine's heart swelled with affection, and she continued to pet and scratch Machaira as they watched the movie, fingers dragging lazily through her mane. Machaira was barely conscious, completely pliant to the motions of Adaine's hand. The diviner wasn't much better, content to bask in the presence of her friends, the soft brush of fur on her skin, and the warmth that had spread from Machaira to flood every inch of her body. Only one thing really caught her attention that night.

At multiple points during the movie, Machaira bit her. Well, 'bit' was a strong word. The tabaxi gripped Adaine's knee or thigh in her jaws, applying just enough pressure to make the action known without causing discomfort. Machaira had done this before sometimes if Adaine stopped petting her too suddenly, but tonight she mouthed the high elf at least half a dozen times, often when Adaine was mid-pet. Eventually, Adaine realized that Machaira was doing it when someone else touched her. If Adaine tapped Fabian's shoulder to get his attention, she was fine, but if Kristen shook Adaine's arm and the wizard responded, she would bite.

After six bites Machaira had not even left a red pressure mark, but she did flash an awful lot of teeth whenever she bit Adaine. The rogue had also slid one arm around Adaine's waist to hold the wizard closer, shifting to take up Adaine's entire lap. Claws flexed weakly atop her jeans, and Machaira rubbed her muzzle along Adaine's thigh. As usual, Machaira wasn't even remotely lucid, so Adaine's whispered inquiries went unheeded. The tabaxi only responded to her tone or a few keywords and nuzzled her upon hearing them, which was adorable but not particularly helpful. Still, Adaine eventually figured it out.

Machaira was happy to have Adaine's affection and none too keen to share the high elf's attention. While her behavior was possessive, it was not unwelcome. Machaira didn't stop anyone from interacting with Adaine nor did she react when Adaine reached out to them. She just made it very clear that, for the moment, Adaine was her pillow and her source of petting and no one else's. Coming from someone else, Adaine would have dunked them as she had dunked on Biz. But Adaine found it strangely endearing that Machaira had staked a claim to her even during her delirium. The wizard recalled sweater-Machaira of New Year's Eve and decided that she was more than happy to let the tabaxi assert herself over Adaine.

When everyone began to go their separate ways and Machaira properly woke up from her cuddly haze, the scout blushed through her fur and quickly stood, muttering strings of apologies to Adaine. The high elf assured her that the evening had been wonderful and that the rogue had nothing to apologize for. Machaira, fur mussed from Adaine's ministrations, gave her a small smile, eyes bright with a simple joy. Still numb and warm from their compact movie night, Adaine had already forgotten about Jason. Machaira wished her goodnight and sweet dreams outside the Abernant residence, offering to hang out after sixth period the next day.

"You promise?" Adaine teased tiredly. Machaira's expression was softer than Adaine's bed.

"Yep." The single syllable filled Adaine's stomach with butterflies, and she accepted quickly. Adaine didn't let Machaira leave until the tabaxi promised to send her a 'home safe' text and wished the rogue goodnight twice. On her way up the gravel road to her door she turned back to wave. The butterflies swarmed to see Machaira waiting patiently outside the gates, offering Adaine a mock salute in return. The wizard stayed awake just long enough to receive Machaira's text and wish her goodnight again before passing out. The next morning Adaine woke up a little earlier than she usually did, eager to get to school and meet up with Machaira. She saw the scout nearly every day, but Adaine was always happy to see her again.

_Adaine knew her relationship with Machaira was special and deeply intimate. She knew they were closer to each other than the rest of the party, closer than most friends. They had suffered through a lot of neglect and abuse and finally found solace in each other. But that didn't necessarily mean her feelings were romantic, right? Adaine wasn't a lesbian, and she wasn't attracted to fur or claws or fangs. She couldn't love Machaira if she didn't desire her, right? The thought replayed itself through her mind more often than it should, circling through her brain like the question to a test she might yet fail._

Adaine didn't consider herself an especially sexual person. Kristen was constantly exploring her sexual desires and then telling the rest of the party about it. Fig was having an affair with a grown man under the disguise of his actual lover. Those were behaviors she considered especially sexual. Adaine rarely participated in their discussions on the topic. She wasn't uncomfortable with it, exactly, but she wanted to keep her sexuality more private. Adaine's parents held that sexual activity was a strictly clandestine matter. While she didn't fully agree with that statement either, the wizard had no desire to draw attention to her own sexuality.

When Fig or Kristen talked about their desires or escapades or crushes, Adaine couldn't help but feel… boring, by comparison. She wasn't horny nearly as much as they seemed to be, nor did she act on her desires so outlandishly. She didn't have quirks or kinks. When Adaine got turned on, she pretended that she wasn't until she was safely locked in her room and certain that her family was asleep. Then she scratched the itch between her legs and moved on with her life. She didn't own any sex toys to help the job along, and she'd never had even kissed anyone. Her fantasies were the most standard, stereotypical, cookie-cutter fantasies every high-elf girl had. Adaine knew that she was clever, but the diviner was a little embarrassed by how plain her sexual needs were. Yet at the end of the day her unimaginative fictions and standard methods got her release when she needed it, allowing Adaine to keep sex on the backburner where it belonged.

But not tonight. Tonight, Adaine was having trouble falling asleep. Her sex throbbed, demanding attention. She tossed and turned, legs squeezing together to try and suppress the urge; but Adaine's breathing remained a touch too heavy. Her room was too warm even after she flung off the covers. When it became clear that ignoring the problem was not an option, Adaine admitted defeat. After listening for movement elsewhere in the house, Adaine's hand pushed under her pajama bottoms and between her legs. She took a deep breath, conjured up her usual fantasy of a handsome, charming high elf come to fawn over her, and began to rub. But for the first time to date, her boring methods failed her.

Try as she might, Adaine couldn't maintain the image of a classically handsome high elf. The generic flattery her imagination read to her fell on deaf ears. During the moments she could properly envision him, the picturesque elf failed to excite her. Her fantasy crumbled apart around her. Adaine tried to relieve the ache between her legs through purely physical stimulation. The girl rubbed until her clit was sore but only managed to work herself up. Adaine heaved a frustrated sigh. Her sweat-damp clothes felt constraining, but she was too worried someone might barge into her room to take them off. It hadn't happened yet, but her family had no respect for her privacy.

The ache rippled up her body. In her desperation, Adaine slid a finger inside her sex, a rare occurrence for the diviner. She appreciated the penetration only briefly before her pleasure plateaued, much too low to get the job done. The friction went from stimulating to annoying. The elf took her hand away entirely, but the need remained. Her vagina complained as it clenched on nothing, aching nerves forcing any other thought from her mind. Adaine whined low in her throat, tortured by the pulses that echoed from between her legs, demanding satisfaction she didn't know how to fulfill. Caught in the grip of her own lust, self-deprecation crept in. She was so boring that she couldn't even get herself off.

_"You're not boring,"_ Machaira's voice whispered in her ear. Suddenly the image of the tabaxi crept into her vision, lanky frame propped on her hands and knees next to Adaine. _"You want what you want. That's fine. And you still have time to figure it all out."_ Mirage-Machaira cupped Adaine's face and turned the elf to meet those golden eyes, thumb swiping over her cheek, claw tips tangling in her hair. Adaine was intimately familiar with the calloused texture of her palm. It was so easy to imagine it brushing against her skin. Over-sensitive nerves flared at the idea, and her face flushed with heat.

_"Sssshhh, I've got you,"_ mirage-Machaira murmured, moving to hover over Adaine. _"I'm here for you, as much or as little as you want me to."_ The wizard recalled when Machaira had kissed her cheek and how her lips had felt. For a split-second, she could imagine that impossibly soft sensation across her own lips. Machaira would kiss her gently in the beginning, letting Adaine adjust and giving her time to object. Her touch would be loving, offering everything and asking for nothing. Adaine gasped, chest heaving as mirage-Machaira planted slow, deliberate kisses over her lips and jawline, fingers stroking her hair. Her sex clenched, applying a dram of pressure to her clit.

"Machaira…" Adaine breathed. She didn't know if she was asking a question or making a promise. But even in her fantasy, mirage-Machaira paused, withdrawing enough to meet her gaze without leaving their small little world. Adaine's hazy imagination had her wearing the wyvern scale jacket over nothing but black panties, barely visible as the tabaxi straddled Adaine's waist. Mirage-Machaira did what Adaine knew real Machaira would have done and waited for her to be okay, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Adaine's ear, already red with heat, fairly burned as she imagined the fine fur of Machaira's hand brushing against it. It was even easier to picture Machaira's expression, eyes soft with love and patience as she waited for the wizard to be ready. Adaine's sex pulsed, and her legs trembled.

_"Do you want me?"_ Mirage-Machaira asked, voice calm. The pulse intensified, walls of her sex clenching. Pressure built low in her stomach, a hunger no food could satiate. Even in her fevered dream, Adaine could only manage a nod and a mousy whisper. Shame started to creep in, but mirage-Machaira smiled and kissed her again, spreading a warm heaviness throughout the elf's body. _"You're okay. I've got you."_ Adaine imagined Machaira's hands roaming over her body, caressing up her sides and down her arms before running back up her limbs to frame her face, tender kisses ghosting over the elf's lips. Goosebumps rose on the wizard's skin, fires blazing across her body as Adaine's breathing became rough and heavy.

Adaine bit back a moan and grabbed her breast, clasping the small mound in her palm. Adaine almost never played with her breasts, mostly because she knew no one would be impressed by them. But she also knew Machaira would play with them because Machaira would want to touch her everywhere. Mirage-Machaira made Adaine stare her in the eyes as she cupped the elf's breast, showing the diviner that she wanted all of Adaine as she massaged her chest. Mirage-Machaira's ghostly kisses migrated to her neck. Adaine's hips began to gyrate at the thought, heat pooling out from between her legs. Adaine closed her eyes, grapping more tightly at her breast, other hand diving down to rub circles over her labia. Adaine was wetter than she could ever remember being, wet enough that her lips made an audible smacking sound as they moved together.

When she opened her eyes, Adaine pictured mirage-Machaira's jacket unbuttoned and open, barely concealing her bust, white claw marks shining over her chest in the elf's dark vision. The wizard wondered how they would feel, if Machaira's breasts would be just as soft as her own or if they were firmer, how heavily they might weigh in her hands. In her mind, she reached out and grabbed mirage-Machaira's scarred tit, taking careful hold and squeezing. Adaine imagined that it would be covered in same fine haze of fur as her hands, imagined that the nipple pebbling under her palm was Machaira's, that her fingers were digging into the rogue's larger mound. Mirage-Machaira gasped and moaned, golden eyes fluttering shut. Adaine pinched the peak of her own breast. Pleasure spiked from the sharp point of contact, and she wished she could give the sensation to the scout. Mirage-Machaira shuddered, hips gripping Adaine more tightly. The mouth planting little kisses across her neck spread wide to take hold of her throat, a hint of the predator emerging as lust took over, establishing dominance over the little elf. Machaira would never come close to hurting her, but the tabaxi would certainly claim her.

_"My mate,"_ mirage-Machaira half-breathed and half-growled over Adaine's neck. Adaine's hips arched off of the bed, pussy convulsing at the thought. Her fingers stalled as conscious thought abandoned her, waves of pleasure rolling in. Adaine struggled to clamp her mouth shut on a cry, terrified at being heard. Her body finally fell back to the bed, shaking with the echoes of her orgasm. But still Adaine craved the tabaxi's touch, and her sex throbbed for yet more attention, emitting enough heat to warm her blankets.

Adaine had only ever tried to imagine the simple kiss and thrust of a man. She didn't know what Machaira would do exactly, but Machaira would know. Adaine pictured her friend moving over her body, taking control and pleasuring her. The elf ran her hands over her skin, ragged breaths tearing from her lungs at this poor substitute for Machaira's touch. She imagined the rogue growing rougher as they became more aroused, growling as she drew breathy whimpers from her lover. Adaine's vague ideas about how sex worked were irrelevant because Machaira understood precisely what to do. Adaine thrilled at the idea of having the tabaxi take charge and ravage her.

Every self-conscious fear that Adaine tried to block when she normally masturbated came forth: she was inexperienced and shy, she had small breasts, she wasn't shaved or waxed, she didn't have the curves other women had. But mirage-Machaira murmured sweet condolences and loving reassurances in her ear, slowing their fucking to love making. For the first time ever, Adaine began to understand the phrase. Her touches became tender, her voice softer. Adaine hadn't considered how patience and kindness and affection were sexy. How did those qualities become disassociated with sex in her mind? But Machaira was all of those things, and Adaine wanted her ten times more for them. Mirage-Machaira held her close and petted her hair and whispered comforting things to Adaine as she kissed and stroked her until the high elf, overcome by the desire to be closer to Machaira, was struck by the urge to roll the tabaxi onto her back and pin her down.

Adaine had always imagined herself on the bottom, getting fucked missionary style. She hadn't allowed herself to consider anything else. She just remembered Machaira saying that she liked to be on her back, and instinct took over. But even without the rogue present, Adaine froze, uncertain of what to do. She didn't know how to be in command or how to pleasure someone properly. Mirage-Machaira smiled up at Adaine, happily surprised by the wizard's move. But she sensed Adaine's sudden discomfort and gently rolled the other girl under her again, lavishing kisses upon Adaine's body to show that she appreciated the attempt.

_"It's your first time," _mirage-Machaira reminded her. _"You don't have to prove anything to me, not on the battlefield, and not in the bedroom."_ Adaine drew upon the emotional mark Machaira had left on her soul, and, in the height of pleasure that distorted any lie her conscious mind might inflict upon sentiment, knew that the feeling was one of being cherished, not merely desired.

Adaine pictured her hands running madly over the tabaxi, grabbing at her ass, ruffling her pelt, digging fingers into her tits, and entangling hands in her mane. She imagined rocking the fur of her ruff backwards as she had been shown so long ago, drawing forth moans and growls as Machaira reveled at her touch. Adaine knew the contours of Machaira's body, where hard muscle or soft, feminine curves lay, and it was easy to imagine that she held Machaira in her arms once more. Adaine wanted all of her: her sass, her determination, her compassion, her ferocity, her body. Gods, her body. Any concerns that she wasn't attracted to Machaira were long gone. Adaine wanted to feel Machaira's fangs scrape and nip at her skin, wanted to ruffle her coat, wanted to be wrapped up in her tail, and wanted to feel the heat and moisture of her sex against the elf's body. Adaine wanted to hear her purr and moan for the wizard. Adaine wanted to feel the softness of her fur and the different softness of her breasts. She wanted to memorize the pattern every scar made across her body, wanted to kiss them all until Machaira knew only warmth and safety and care as Adaine did in her arms. Mirage-Machaira kissed and nuzzled her, panting under her ministrations.

Pleasure undulated from her sex. Adaine sensed herself nearing climax, a summit higher than she had gone before. Adaine was wetter than she could ever remember being, dripping cum onto the bed until the sheet between her legs was damp to the touch. Adaine felt heavy with want, muscles dragged down by desire. Her pajama bottoms had been shoved to somewhere around her knees, and her shirt was pulled up over her chest. Her clit was red and raw and swollen from her furious rubbing, but each tiny prick of pain was drowned in gratification. As she pumped her sex, fingers working madly to drive her over the edge, Adaine imagined Machaira was the one touching her, control slowly cracking as Adaine's arousal drove her mad. Mirage-Machaira panted, meeting Adaine's eyes with her own lusty stare. Adaine felt that she should say something, even though her friend wasn't there, but she couldn't make herself talk through the mounting pleasure.

_"I love you, Adaine,_" mirage-Machaira whispered. _"Even if you don't love me."_ Just as the thought slipped into her fantasy, Adaine came. Her vision broke into bright spots of light at the force that rocked her body, legs simultaneously locking in place and spasming, clamped around her hands. Adaine's throat closed, voice abandoning her so that the three words she wanted to tell Machaira, the real Machaira, more than anything were silenced.

It took more than a full minute for Adaine to come down from her orgasm. Her room reeked of sweat and lust. Her hair and clothes were sticky and damp, as was the blanket beneath her. Fading ripples of pleasure echoed from her vagina, slit still throbbing, but not in a way that made her want to come again. Alone and drained of energy, Adaine would have passed out from the satisfaction were it not for the epiphany that buzzed about her brain.

For months, Adaine's concerns about her sexuality had cast doubts over her true emotions. She had been worried about what it might mean if she was bisexual, if she liked a humanoid with fur and animal attributes. She did not condemn such things, but her anxiety had swollen their importance until she lost sight of the simple truth. But now those concerns lay dead and buried in the mental rubble left behind by her orgasmic revelation. Adaine should have been freaking out over realizing that she was bi, but she was too tired. And a larger thought dominated her limited brain power.

Adaine was in love with her best friend. Adaine was in love with a girl. Adaine was in love with a tabaxi. Adaine was in love with Machaira. Machaira, who had changed Adaine's life in ways she could never have expected. Machaira, who had given Adaine everything she could have ever asked for in a friend and more she could not have dreamed of receiving. Machaira, her party member, who could take on three werewolves with nothing but her claws and teeth and keep going. Machaira, who loved Adaine and expressed her love every day. Patient, caring Machaira who always put Adaine first. Machaira, who had a body like a goddess. Machaira, who had taught Adaine the very meaning of love and intimacy.

Adaine was in love with Machaira.

Machaira, who thought herself an ugly beast. Machaira, who had been told she was unwanted and unlovable until she believed it. Machaira, who had been born unlucky and cursed for it many times over. Machaira, who thought she had nothing to offer the world but violence. Machaira, who called herself a slut because she had been used and mistreated by so many people. Machaira, who was sometimes reviled just for walking into a room. Machaira, who thought that her love was so undesirable that she tried to apologize for it in secret. Machaira, who thought Adaine would not, could not love her in return.

"I love you," Adaine whispered, a few tears beginning to break free. "I love you, Machaira." But the tabaxi was not present to hear her, and the wizard didn't know how she could convince her damaged friend to believe her. Adaine didn't know if she should tell Machaira. She didn't know if the rogue was ready for a relationship. She didn't know how to explain that she had known about the scout's feelings, spoken but not meant to be heard, and pretended that she hadn't known for almost two months. Adaine didn't know how to express that she wanted Machaira without sounding like a furry, a group neither girl wanted to be associated with. Adaine sort of knew how to process her uncovered bisexuality, but the idea still staggered her.

But the question that had dogged her since the day winter break began had been answered. As Adaine fell asleep, she knew that she would no longer lie to herself. As Adaine fell asleep, a single thought branded itself onto her heart and mind.

_I love you, Machaira Mekhit_.


	23. Cool Kids, Cold Case - Part 9: Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenagers suck at flirting. But some of them are really good at knowing when to back off and show genuine love and understanding. Unfortunately, opportunity only last for a limited time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, quick update - This story is not being canceled. The hiatus it took came about when, during quarantine, my cat of seventeen years became dangerously sick and eventually died in my arms. Between these two factors and a pile of others, my will to write took a hit. But I love this story, and I love all of you. So, without further ado, let's get into the story. As always, comments make my day ten times better.
> 
> WARNING: Some explicit material in this chapter. Mostly thought based, a little bit of action, but it does occur.
> 
> BIGGER WARNING: ANGST!!!!!!!

**Chapter 11: Cool Kids, Cold Case – Part 9: Opportunity**

"Dreadful, positively dreadful," Angwyn announced, clearing his throat and ruffling the newspaper. Adaine stared at him, debating whether it was worth having this conversation again. She decided that it wasn't. Adaine turned her attention back to breakfast, eating as efficiently as possible. Meals with her friends took longer because they socialized more, but the act of eating was so much more tedious when she had to adhere to the strict formal dining rules her parents enforced.

"What has happened, dear?" Arianwyn inquired. Normally Adaine was expected to ask what was dreadful, or at least badger her father about this habit of his, but after a while her mother and sister got tired of waiting for her.

"Oh, Solace is still trying to drag Fallinel into negotiations with High Court," her father drawled. "Something about elven mediation in a missing persons' case. They've been at it for months now. There's an article in the Solace paper about moving the case up to the federal jurisdiction, which will put more pressure on Fallinel to help. Honestly, I'm amazed there's a Solace native who can tie his shoes without Fallinel's influence." Adaine clenched her jaw. Her father knew that missing persons' case was the result of her big quest. He seemed to remember whenever he wanted to express how dissident her behavior had become, anyway. The youngest Abernant stared resolutely at her plate and chewed in silence, preferring to mull over her personal problems that to dwell on her father's pettiness.

School had been canceled on Monday and Tuesday after group of students from Aguefort summoned a demon on campus Friday morning. Why they didn't wait until Friday evening so that there'd be less chance of discovery, she wasn't sure. Conjurations had become a serious problem since the brighter students deduced that the anti-summoning wards had been broken. A new ward had not yet been erected for reasons Adaine wasn't privy to, and the more chaotic factions at Aguefort were doing their best to take advantage of it. The demon hadn't had enough time to do any real damage, but the police thought the event serious enough to close the school for investigation. Aguefort wasn't slated to reopen until next week.

Gorgug was going on a road trip with his parents over the impromptu vacation, and the Thistlesprings had been more than happy to let Riz tag along. Fig was going out of town to see a concert with Kristen while Fabian was spirited away for father/son bonding time with Bill Seacaster on some island. Adaine would have been happy to spend the unexpected weekend extension with Machaira, but the tabaxi had warned her that she had a lot of work scheduled for today, something about a big one-time job on top of her regular appointments. The rogue had said she might be able to see Adaine, but there had been a weird undertone to Machaira's voice that made Adaine think that was more wishful thinking than a realistic possibility.

Besides, tonight her family was teleporting back to Fallinel for a three-day elvish holiday celebrating Corellon, creator of the elves. The head of the elven pantheon, Corellon represented everything an elf could want or aspire for over his or her lifetime, and his festival was a massive affair. Almost every elf who had ever lived in Fallinel would gather to celebrate. It was a carnival of magic, and mages would cast spells with a level of abandon normally considered suicidal. As an elvish family of the highest respect and status, Adaine's family would spend the festival alongside prestigious political leaders, spellcasters, and clerics, privileged to the greatest food, drink, and entertainment that a mostly magical, immortal race had developed since the aboleth war.

In all honesty, Adaine wasn't huge on the Festival of Corellon. She thought it a little hypocritical that they poured such importance into a holiday celebrating their head deity while sneering at everyone else's gods the rest of the year. Plus, the parties she had to attend with her family, which were the only parties she could attend, were terribly dull affairs in which her parents networked and her sister preened and Adaine waited to die from the depression of being passed over by everyone in the room. The Festival of Corellon was like being trapped in Hudol with her sister again. And it always fell the week before Valentine's Day, giving Aelwyn two holidays in rapid succession to ridicule Adaine on. But as stuffy and uncomfortable as the whole thing would be, Fallinel was her home. Adaine had grown to love Elmville, but she missed the magic of her birthplace. While Adaine had had enough high elf superiority to last a lifetime, there was something nice about being surrounded by people who shared her beliefs and culture and history, united by the same ancestral joy of their creator that every elf felt but struggled to truly join in.

Still, Adaine would have been happy to spend the spontaneous sabbatical with Machaira, especially since the others would all be out of town. If she'd gotten any other week off of school, Adaine thought she might have been able to convince Machaira to let her visit the scout's camp. Kristen had once suggested that they all go camping one weekend and mentioned that Machaira already had a site set up for them. Machaira had pointed out that she was twenty minutes out into the woods, more than double that time for anyone trying to carry gear up a cliff without her natural climbing ability (aka all the rest of them). Her camp had no electricity, no running water, and nothing to do. While Adaine agreed that camping didn't sound like fun, she thought the idea of spending the day cozying up to Machaira in the woods had promise. Adaine was nursing vague fantasies about being alone with Machaira where no one could find them when an invisible servant whisked past her to deliver a message to her father.

"Ah, very well," Angwyn said. "Well, at least it's getting done. Quite nice."

"What's getting done, father?" Aelwyn took her turn to ask when Adaine again refused to rise to the bait.

"Oh, the normal gardener wasn't able to come to work today, some nonsense about his wife being in the hospital, and his crew wouldn't come without him. He informed me that he found a replacement, some local who does yard work in the other communities. I've asked the servants to keep an eye on the substitute." Adaine finished her breakfast while her father was talking, stood, and headed to her room before he had finished. Adaine technically spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon studying, but most of her attention was on how she was going to be trapped with her family for the next few days, fantasizing over her friend, and the depressing reality of spending another Valentine's Day alone. Eventually she descended into the kitchen to get a snack, meaning Adaine walked into the kitchen and the air elementals sensed that she wanted a snack and started preparing a plate of elven whey bread with depressingly healthy toppings. As she waited, Adaine's father strode in through the back door.

"Well, her work seems up to par," he drawled to Arianwyn. Adaine's mother sniffed, glancing up from her position at the table to stare out the bay window into the yard.

"She's slower than our normal wood elf," the professor commented. "He's normally done with the lawn by now and moved on to hedges." Ah, so they were talking about the replacement gardener.

"The servants say that she arrived at four-thirty in the morning," Angwyn replied. "Did the hedges and the garden first to avoid waking us up, or some such nonsense excuse to weasel extra coin out of us." Aelwyn smiled over her homework from the head of the table but did not vocalize her amused agreement, exactly as a proper Abernant daughter should. Adaine almost wretched.

"I didn't know they could get up so early," Arianwyn commented lightly, shifting through some papers. Adaine clenched her jaw. None of her friends had been over to her house because of her parents. Even Fabian's high elf lineage wouldn't matter to them. A plate of food appeared in her hands, and Adaine turned to leave the room.

"Gods, she's just hideous though," Angwyn continued. "Grass and earth all over her. Didn't get too close, but I bet she smells positively foul, what with all that debris in her fur." At the last word, Adaine froze in the kitchen doorway. She slowly turned around to face her father. To her horror, Aelwyn had also stopped what she was doing and fixated on Angwyn.

"I know, such an ugly species of animal," Arianwyn agreed without looking up. It was a testament to their parents' scorn that neither sister could infer anything further from that statement. "At least she knows her place."

"Indeed, one of the few jobs fit for a tabaxi." Angwyn agreed. Adaine almost dropped her food. Aelwyn turned to look at her with a truly evil smile. Adaine did her best to feign indifference. To her knowledge, there was only one tabaxi in Elmville, but Aelwyn didn't know that. Adaine turned away and walked back to her room as calmly as she knew how. Adaine was a terrible liar, but Aelwyn remained seated, so perhaps her deception was sufficient. Adaine dumped her plate on her desk as she rushed to the window. A single figure pushed an elemental lawn mower across the grass. Adaine wasn't close enough to make out many details, but she could see that the person was even shorter than she was. Shit.

Adaine tried to affect a casual attitude as she walked back downstairs and got a glass of water from the kitchen. Aelwyn was still at the table with her mother. Her father had sat down with a stack of documents. None of them paid Adaine any attention as she headed into the living room. The young wizard waited to make sure no one was suspicious before quietly casting Unseen Servant and instructing it to rifle through the books and walk around the corner if anyone entered the room. With luck, her family would assume Adaine was trying to look up something obscure in the communal library. Adaine tiptoed over to the front door, triple checking that no one was following her before she slipped out and dashed around the house into the backyard. Adaine felt a sinking sensation in her gut as she rounded the corner. A thick tail waved about behind the figure pushing the mower, occasionally snapping up to stay off the ground. Machaira noticed Adaine approaching and set the mower to idle.

"Oh, hey Adaine," she greeted easily. "What's up?"

"Why didn't you tell me that this was your big job?" Adaine demanded, forgoing a 'hello'. Machaira sighed, tail lowering.

"I didn't want you to get into a fight with your family," she confessed. "When I was asked to take this job, I knew your parents would be assholes about it. And I knew you wouldn't stand for that. But you're going to be going on that trip to Fallinel with them, and it'll suck even more if you're pissed at them before you even leave. I thought maybe I could slide under the radar and wait to tell you until after I got paid."

"But why would you work for my parents in the first place?" Adaine pressed, a little bewildered.

"Your parents aren't paying me as much as they do their normal gardener, but this one job is still worth what I normally make in six weeks." Machaira informed her. "It's the best I've ever made from a gig without getting blood on my hands or taking my clothes off. And they don't even know who I am. Your normal gardener subcontracted me. I just keep telling myself that you're the only person who lives here. Look at it this way," she pressed when Adaine still didn't look happy. "I'm taking your parents' money and putting it to good use. And I'll help you murder your sister before you go to Fallinel if you want."

Adaine's lips twitched up a bit. The elf wished Machaira had told her that she would be here, but she also understood why the rogue had wanted to wait. And Machaira hadn't done anything wrong. Adaine's distress at the partial lie dissolved, and she begrudgingly smiled. Machaira's ears and tail flicked up, face glowing with happiness that Adaine wasn't mad. The wizard's smile broadened to see how much her opinion mattered to the tabaxi. Machaira's eyes flitted to something behind Adaine, and her expression darkened.

"Speaking of future murder victims," she murmured. Adaine turned, stomach sinking once more as Aelwyn strolled across the green towards the younger girls. Adaine instinctively shifted to stand between her and Machaira, realizing too late how much worse that would make the situation look.

"Well, isn't this cute," Aelwyn opened. "My sister has taken up with a stray cat. What will Mommy and Daddy say?"

"I'm only talking to my friend."

"Probably the same bullshit they cough up on a daily basis." Adaine and Machaira said at the same time.

"Mmm, imagine their faces when I go inside and tell them that the replacement gardener is the cat that insulted them," Aelwyn continued. "They'll be positively furious."

"And of course, their opinion is the only thing that matters to you," Machaira piped up before Adaine could respond.

"Are you insinuating that it shouldn't?" Aelwyn sneered. "Or are you trying to call me heartless?"

"I'm trying to say that your parents are the crux of your self-worth," Machaira clarified. "Your success at Hudol, your mother's school; your parents' approval and applause; your skill with arcane theory crafting is your family's brand of magic; the car your parents gave you; and your diplomatic status from your father - all of that depends on your parents. Without them, you're nothing. Adaine is top of the charts at Aguefort, a school your parents have nothing to do with."

"Yes, she must be the best skeleton smasher in Elmville," Aelwyn sneered.

"Laugh all you want, but outside your house, Aguefort is a name that carries weight," Machaira countered mildly. "And Adaine isn't just top of her class at Aguefort, she's a hero there. She was part of the group that uncovered a fanatical cult kidnapping girls and trying to open demonic portals. As far as Solace is concerned, Adaine is the Abernant daughter worth watching. Your parents might not care, but your sister has already shown more independence than you ever have. And I don't need Detect Thoughts to see that fact eating at you. Without your parents, Adaine has accomplishments to her name. All you have is a vaguely slutty fashion sense." Machaira crossed her arms over the handle of the mower and leaned forward, her voice almost bored. There was heat in her eyes, but it was a lazy contempt that more simmered than blazed. For a few beautiful seconds, Aelwyn was floored, silently searching for a comeback. Adaine smiled so hard her face hurt. She never could have divined an outcome this awesome. Aelwyn's face fell into cold fury, building to a deadly counter attack. Adaine stiffened instinctively, but Machaira didn't so much as bat an eye. Heat met cold, and neither would back down.

"Mummy and Daddy will fire you when they find out," Aelwyn threatened. "And then you will have done all of this work for us for free. Still think you're clever, cat?" Adaine cast Ray of Sickness of her sister. Aelwyn managed to resist the brunt of the spell, but her face did turn green. The older Abernant hunched over a little, taking a moment to hold back her vomit, before rising with a glare.

"Adaine, wait," Machaira protested. "Don't do this. Aelwyn isn't worth it." Adaine gave Machaira a hard look. Those yellow eyes, so different from her own, were cautionary. But with a burst of insight, Adaine realized that her warning overlay a weary acceptance at the loss of coin and a soft affection for the younger wizard. Machaira would allow Aelwyn to rob her of payment because it would mean less trouble for Adaine. And, on some level, she had expected to lose her earnings. Aelwyn would be but another name on a too-long list of people who had taken advantage of her.

"She isn't," Adaine confirmed, voice hard and cold. "But you are." With that, Adaine cast Scorching Ray. Three lines of fire streaked from her palm. Aelwyn was able to erect a shield to block two of them, but one slipped past just in time to burn through her shirt, right at the base of the sternum. Aelwyn yelped and touched the charred circle as the lawn sizzled behind her where the other two bolts had been deflected. Her sister retaliated with a Ray of Frost, but Machaira leapt in front of Adaine before the spell could hit. The tabaxi barely choked back a cry and stumbled as jagged shards of ice grew over her jacket, falling to one knee.

"Machaira," Adaine gasped.

"I've got you," she grunted. "Not… not going to make things worse." Adaine understood. Technically, the Abernant residence counted as foreign soil. Attacking Aelwyn would be equivalent to attacking a diplomatic representative on Fallinel territory. But the rogue wasn't going to let Adaine fight by herself. Suddenly, the stakes had changed. Aelwyn wouldn't kill Adaine, but she wouldn't bat an eye over dispatching Machaira. Conversely, Aelwyn was about as physically weak as Adaine was. Neither sister could take much of a beating, and Machaira would only have to block a handful of spells for Adaine to chip her sister down. As Adaine fired off a Lightning Bolt through Aelwyn's chest, she tried to move back and toward the side, pulling Aelwyn's attention away from the tabaxi.

Aelwyn gasped, glared, and slung a Fireball toward Adaine, but Machaira had been waiting for her to attack. The scout hurled herself up into the path of the spell, twisting so that her scaled jacket bore the brunt of the impact. Machaira was dexterous enough to keep her limbs and head out of the explosion, drawing upon her rogue training to take the hit while evading some of the damage in a most uncanny dodge. Even so, Machaira collapsed to the grass in a charred, smoky heap. She grunted, propped herself up on one arm, and coughed up a clot of red spittle.

"Not to push you or anything… but if you could finish her off… I'd appreciate it," the scout panted, pulling one leg under her body. Adaine grit her teeth, fear and anger urging her to finish this. Spell energy rushed to her fingertips, and Adaine opened her mouth to level a curse at her sister.

"What is going on out here?" Angwyn Abernant interrupted, quick-stepping out the back door and across the lawn toward the quarrelling wizards. The sisters released their spells and separated as if their father's presence was a magical force all its own. Machaira pushed herself up with a pained grunt, tottering slightly as she stood. Adaine backed up to stand partially in front of her friend, eyes shifting from her father to her sister. "Honestly, why can't you girls get along?" Despite using 'girls' plural, Angwyn stared directly at Adaine as he spoke.

"Adaine attacked me," Aelwyn piped up as Adaine opened her mouth. "I was about to inform you and Mummy that the new gardener is the filthy cat that insulted you, and she tried to stop me."

"She was threatening my friend," Adaine objected.

"Is this true?"

"Yes," Adaine said with feeling.

"Adaine, I'm very disappointed in you," Angwyn reminded her. "Fighting with your sister to protect a tabaxi's reputation, of all things." He turned to Machaira, who was still brushing grass shavings and ash off her sleeves and head. "As for you, I witnessed the… incident from the house. Your attempts to intervene, albeit with strong bias, were non-violent. If you finish your work quickly and don't come back, we can pretend that none of this ever happened." Adaine's father turned back to her with the same dissatisfied frown he had when she had her first panic attack, unchanged through the years.

"This behavior is disgraceful. Ever since you started going to that Aguefort school, you've been a downright rogue. Fighting with your sister is nothing new, but look at the damage you've caused." Angwyn gestured to the lawn with one hand, grass peppered with scorch marks and ice crystals. "And you attacked her to protect this cat from your own parents. Honestly, I can't fathom what came over you to make you behave so barbarically." Adaine opened her mouth to protest, but her father swept on. "I'm afraid you leave me no choice. I cannot allow your aberrant conduct to sully our family name. Adaine Abernant, you are hereby grounded and forbidden from attending the Festival of Corellon."

Adaine blinked up at her father, digesting his statement. She wouldn't be going back to Fallinel tonight. She wouldn't get to be a part of the Festival. Adaine was banned from her own culture, from the most important event of the year. She wasn't allowed to celebrate the birth of her people or share in their ancestral joy. Her family was just… leaving her. Was that it? Was she so easy to push aside? As the idea took root, terror began to creep into the distant parts of Adaine's subconscious, rising in a towering wave threatening to crash down upon her mind. As the wave began to bear down and her throat started to close, a voice broke through the budding panic attack.

"Adaine." The elf in question immediately zeroed in on the soft voice of her crush. Angwyn had been issuing some statement to the tabaxi that Adaine hadn't heard; but Machaira's large, golden eyes were all for Adaine, sympathy welling from deep within. The tabaxi faltered for a moment before speaking again. "Are you okay?"

"No," she answered in a small voice. None of this was okay. But when Adaine met those eyes, concerned but not pitying and loving without judgement, some of the anxiety eased. Machaira was there for her, like she always was.

"It's a punishment," her father interrupted the moment. "You're not supposed to be okay with it." He whirled on Machaira. "And I _just_ told you that I don't want to see you talking to my daughter again. Now finish your job and leave before I dock your pay further." Protective anger swelled forth and pushed aside some of Adaine's hysteria, enough for her vision to clear, revealing Machaira's tenderness begin to give way to a harsher expression. For a minute, the tabaxi's gaze teetered between the two extremes. As Adaine steeled herself, preparing to protest the rogue against her father, Machaira picked up on her sudden stability. With that understanding, her gaze crystalized into something savage. Adaine had seen her friend angry, hungry, scared, and hyped up on adrenaline many times, but she had never seen a look so hateful cross those feline features before. Lips peeled away from glistening ivory fangs, and the rogue turned on Angwyn.

"_You arrogant cock-sucking sewer rat_," she snarled in draconic. Every wizard learned to speak draconic, the original language of magic, but it was a rough, grating language with lots of difficult pronunciations. Adaine hadn't heard Machaira speak draconic since that first afternoon at Seacaster Manor, but it sounded much more authentic when spoken with such deep venom. For a moment, she thought the scout was going to leap at her father. Instead, Machaira revved the lawnmower until the elementals within screeched like banshees. The scout kicked the lawnmower forward, and it careened across the lawn, spraying all of them with sod and grass, grinding horribly over ice shards and smoldering turf. Machaira turned back to Adaine's father, ears flat, eyes blazing, mane bristling into spikes.

"_There isn't enough coin in Fallinel to justify working for a worm so blind_," the scout spat, hatred vibrating in every saurian syllable. "_Don't say a fucking word_." She growled over Angwyn's attempts to reply, low voice rumbling over the lawn. "_You're a cruel, stupid thug of an elf, and one day soon you'll realize – too late – that you've been pandering to the wrong daughter. And when that day comes, I'll purr as your world falls down around you_." CRASH! The lawnmower smashed into the fence and overturned, blades churning at air. Angwyn took a step back. Adaine had never seen her father walk backward, even to leave a room or get up from the table. But for a moment, he had forgotten that he was the elven ambassador and that Machaira was a teenage girl a good foot shorter than he. For a moment, Angwyn Abernant was scared. He managed to collect himself as Machaira spun on heel and stalked away, but the damage had been done. Angwyn had lost composure, and Adaine would never forget it. Her father had been bullied by her best friend, and nothing could have made her happier.

It was only after Machaira stormed through the gates that Adaine realized the word she had used to describe her father as a cruel stupid thug had been the masculine word for dagger, _Machair_.

That evening found Adaine curled on top of her bed, miserable and alone in Elmville instead of… well, less miserable and alone in Fallinel. Her parents hadn't bothered with a proper lecture this time. After Machaira's departure, Adaine was sent to her room. Her mother came in for a brief moment to inform Adaine on how disappointed she was in the younger wizard. Arianwyn confirmed that Adaine was grounded, neither permitted to come with the family to Fallinel nor to leave the house in their absence. Adaine had one last glimpse of Aelwyn's smug expression before the door closed behind her mother. That was six hours ago. Her family had left four hours ago, and Adaine had done little more than sulk since then.

Strangely enough, she wasn't too miffed over Aelwyn anymore. Yes, her sister had made a complete bitch of herself and completely ruined Adaine's extended weekend, but they'd also had their first fight in which Adaine hadn't immediately lost. Granted, she'd had Machaira's help, and her father had taken Aelwyn's side once again, but Adaine had managed to hold her own for a few turns at least. It was marked improvement from their Hudol days.

No, what really had her down was that they were leaving her behind. Adaine had always known that her parents didn't put the same stock in her that they did in Aelwyn, but she'd never had their apathy displayed so viscerally. She was just… lost. Obviously, her parents had been displeased with her for some time, or more so than they had been previously. Adaine hadn't exactly tried to earn their approval of late. But she didn't think that they would ban her from the Festival of Corellon, their equivalent of Elmville's Solstice. She would spend the biggest holiday of the year alone because her family thought she was an embarrassment. There was a lot to unpack there that Adaine wasn't ready for.

_Bzzt_. Her crystal buzzed with a text from Machaira, almost immediately followed by a second.

7:01 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: Hey, are your parents gone? I would have called sooner, but I didn't want to get you in any more trouble.

7:02 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: I'm sorry about earlier btw.

Adaine was calling Machaira before she finished reading the messages. If she had ever needed her friend, now was the time.

"Hey," Machaira answered immediately but cautiously. "Are you – I'm sorry. I, I fucked up."

"No, you didn't," Adaine told her. "And I'm sorry. My dad – he sucks so hard. So does Aelwyn. They both, just, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Are they still home?" Machaira asked.

"No, they left – they left for Fallinel a while ago." Adaine's voice shrank as she stammered. "I'm, I'm all alone here."

"Give me fifteen minutes." Machaira hung up without elaboration, leaving a confused and slightly hurt Adaine by herself again. Was Machaira too busy for her all of a sudden? Did she want to shower before calling back? What would she need fifteen minutes for? She couldn't mean – no, that would be tantamount to invading foreign soil. She'd also have to bypass dozens of traps and alarms, both magical and normal, and – "

_Tap tap tap_.

Adaine started at the noise and turned to her window. Slowly, Adaine slid off of her bed and approached her window, disbelief swamping her previous confusion. There, clinging to the exterior wall of the Abernant residence like a koala, was Machaira, ears flat and one hand holding a Styrofoam cup. Her tail whipped against the wall below her. Adaine stared for a moment before sliding her window up and open.

"Uh, hey," Machaira opened, shuffling in place on the wall as if she wasn't six meters off the ground. "I, um, got your favorite from Basrar's as, like, an apology gift." She murmured tentatively, holding the treat out to her. "I, yeah, sorry about – do you want to talk or something?" It took Adaine a minute to process that, yes, Machaira had broken through the defenses set in place by the best wizards in Fallinel, climbed the wall of her house, and knocked on her window after sunset to give her a shake and check in. Slowly, a grin broke out over the diviner's face. She'd never needed a friend more, and here was everything she could have asked for.

"I take it I'm forgiven?" Machaira guessed as Adaine took the desert and slurped a chunk of ice cream through her smile.

"I was never really mad at you," Adaine corrected her.

"Then can I come in?" The rogue asked. Adaine giggled and backed up, giving her friend room to slip in and close the window. Adaine placed her shake on her bookshelf as Machaira turned to face her, left hand grabbing her right bicep. "So, are you okay?" Adaine surged forward and hugged the tabaxi, arms wrapping tightly around her neck. Machaira started with a grunt but folded Adaine in a strong embrace. For a moment, they stayed there, Adaine all but choking Machaira as the scout rubbed her back. Machaira smelled of cut grass, ash, and sweat, her animal musk a shade stronger than normal from physical exertion. Her jacket was a little grimy, and her fur was sticky with salt. To the young elf, the scent was wonderful. A powerful surge of emotion rose within Adaine, fierce joy at how present and solid Machaira felt in that moment. Machaira was there for her. She was always there for her. Adaine wanted to tell Machaira how much that meant to her, how happy she was to see her. She wanted to apologize for the fiasco earlier and share the apology ice cream as they railed against her shitty family.

Instead, she started to cry. Adaine wasn't sure exactly when the tears started, but they quickly built into a torrent of ugly sobs. Fragments of speech slipped through, bits and pieces of ideas she didn't want to face. Her sense of loss and abandonment boiled up to the forefront of her mind, and the wizard fell apart before she could stop herself. For a minute, Machaira continued to hold her, rubbing circles into her back. The room spun around Adaine as the tabaxi scooped her up. The diviner felt herself being pressed into Machaira's chest and curled into the more secure embrace, finding solace in the closeness of the familiar hold. With her head buried in Machaira's collar and her body snuggly supported by Machaira's lap, Adaine's sense of loss lessened. The sting of fresh wounds softened as the tabaxi rested her jaw on Adaine's head. Perhaps this is why Adaine broke down, because she knew that she was safe to do so. As Machaira stroked her hair, murmuring comforts to the distraught high elf, Adaine knew that Machaira loved her. What else could be so warm, or soothe her anxious mind so effectively? Soft reassurances were whispered in her ear as the rogue cradled her, the same sweet nothings Machaira always told her, low voice reverberating with the firmness of her belief in the diviner, rippling through Adaine's body like distant thunder.

Loneliness faded to be replaced with belonging. This was where Adaine wanted to be. Her panic departed as quickly as it came, draining away under Machaira's languid ministrations. Adaine melted into the body beneath her, allowing herself to be petted. Machaira's scent wreathed around her, as much a comfort as the motion of her hand on the elf's back. Her hold was tight enough to be soothing without being constraining. Adaine mumbled a thank you, and Machaira huffed, picking Adaine up and sitting her down on the edge of the bed.

"Why don't you finish your ice cream," she suggested quietly, handing Adaine the cup as she reclaimed Adaine's desk chair. The girls exchanged smiles, and Adaine slurped down the rest of her shake. It had melted a little, but it was less of a hot mess than she was and almost as nice as the feline smiling across from her. "So, looked like the mighty Aelwyn was struggling a bit." Adaine grinned around her straw, finally equalizing from the recent emotional rollercoaster.

"I'm not at her level yet, but I'm getting there," Adaine confirmed. "Thanks for helping out by the way. I hope she didn't hurt you too badly."

"I'm a little sore," Machaira admitted, rolling her left arm around in its socket. "But it's nothing some food, rest, and a good bath can't fix." Machaira's smile was innocent, but Adaine's brain tunnel-visioned on the image of Machaira in the bath for a good few seconds. "I'll be fine once I get home."

"Why don't you stay here?" Adaine blurted. Machaira blinked, seemingly taken aback. "I mean," the wizard continued more calmly. "My parents are going to be gone for tonight and the next three days. We could have a sleepover. It'd be a lot of fun." The more Adaine thought about her impulse, the better it sounded. In trying to punish her, Adaine's family had opened a golden opportunity to solve her Machaira problem. "We could watch movies and talk and play games. Besides, I'm never going to get another opportunity to have you over."

Machaira hesitated. Once again, insight class paid off as Adaine realized Machaira's dilemma. As far as she knew, Adaine didn't reciprocate the tabaxi's feelings. A sleepover would be supremely awkward for her, literally placing her desire on a platter for her to see but not have. On the other hand, Machaira enjoyed her company and wouldn't want to leave Adaine by herself after the day's previous events. While Adaine sympathized with the rogue's position, she knew that she would never get a chance like this again. An extended period of time during which the two of them had perfect privacy in a safe space while wearing pajamas – this was perfect. Adaine could take her time trying to confess to Machaira, and if everything went right, her bed was right here.

"Uh, sure," Machaira relented, trying to look excited and not nervous. "Why not? It'll be fun." Adaine reigned in burgeoning fantasies about Machaira in her bed as the other girl made an effort to push aside her trepidation, smiling more genuinely. "I mean, I'll have to go home first to get a change of clothes, but – "

"I have clothes," Adaine offered quickly. A little red crept up her neck, and she reminded herself to stay natural. "You can go back home if you want to, but you're more than welcome to borrow some of my things. And I can put your clothes in the wash so that they're clean for tomorrow." Machaira thought for a moment. As Adaine watched the internal struggle play out in those lovely yellow eyes, she took a deep but silent breath and steeled herself. Eventually, Adaine would have to open up to the tabaxi about how she felt, but she needed to set the mood first. If she was going to make this work, Machaira would need reassurance that they were still friends and that Adaine didn't want her for her body. Well, not just her body.

"Um, sure, but I thought you only had, you know, just these clothes and schoolgirl outfits," Machaira countered with a gesture to Adaine's current attire. Adaine mentally cursed her parents once more for limiting her wardrobe options, but a solution quickly came to mind.

"I have gym clothes," she remembered, running to her dresser and rifling to the bottom of her junk drawer. "I don't think I've ever worn them, but they should fit you." Adaine withdrew a somewhat oversized T-shirt and pair of short-shorts and handed them to Machaira. The one time she had gone to the gym with Machaira she had forgotten to wear them, so they'd never seen any use until now. She had been meaning to throw the damn things away for ages, and silently thanked the gods that she hadn't. Machaira sized up the clothes skeptically. They'd probably fit her, but then she'd be wearing Adaine's clothes. While the notion thrilled Adaine for reasons she couldn't quite put into words, the wizard saw how that might be painfully ironic for Machaira.

_It won't be after this_, Adaine silently swore. How Machaira had put up with this kind of emotional turmoil for so long, Adaine couldn't fathom. The awkwardness was already gnawing at her nerves, and she hadn't been subjected to it for three months. Adaine was going to make sure that the wait was worth it.

"Okay," Machaira relented quietly. "Do you, um, want me to change now?"

"You don't have to," Adaine said, a little insecurity creeping in at the scout's clear reluctance. "Just, you have something for, you know, later. We can go eat or watch a movie or something."

"Oh, okay. I thought you were trying to tell me that I needed a shower." Machaira explained, pink filtering through her white cheek fur.

"No, no, sorry," Adaine backtracked. "No, you don't smell. I was only offering so that you didn't have to go home." Truthfully, the tabaxi did smell a little strongly. While comforting in its familiarity, she preferred the softer scent Machaira carried after a shower. "Are you hungry?"

"Always," Machaira confirmed, good humor returning. The rogue put Adaine's gym stuff aside and followed her out into the hallway. When Machaira stood from her seat, Adaine almost got vertigo. Intellectually, Adaine knew she was taller than Machaira by a good few inches. But the tabaxi seemed so much larger in the Abernant house. Never had a presence so… wild entered the manor. As Machaira stalked down the hallway, broad skull swinging to inspect an oil painting, Adaine felt tiny next to her. For a moment, she wondered if the walls could contain Machaira, or if the house would come down around them now that its civilized elven stuffiness had been invaded by such a feral force. Even the air elementals seemed affected by Machaira. One servant began fixing a plate of food for Adaine while the others swirled about chaotically, uneasy with the tabaxi.

"It's okay," Adaine reassured a snarling Machaira. "Can you make her something to eat?" Adaine requested the air elementals. "My friend is a bit of a carnivore, so no grains. Maybe something with eggs or cheese?" In seconds the servants whisked away from the girls in compliance with her instructions.

"So, who are they?" Machaira asked slowly, sliding her saber back into its sheath.

"Oh, those are the, uh, servants," Adaine stuttered, eyes flitting to the floor. "They, uh, it's because my dad is the, you know, ambassador – it's a Fallinel thing. My – it sucks, I know, okay. I – "

"Adaine, it's okay." Machaira interrupted. She looked over toward the kitchen and the invisible elemental servants. "So, are they friends of yours or…?" Adaine squirmed a little. She had never mentioned that her family had servants before. Fabian's family had servants, and her friends had never been bothered by it, but this seemed different somehow. Maybe it was because her family only employed beings that they didn't have to look at, or maybe it was because she really wanted to make an impression on Machaira tonight.

"I, I, never really, I, no, they're not, not really," she stammered, feeling a little put on the spot. "I tried, tried talking to them when I was younger, but they're not really supposed to, to interact with us unless it's for – part of their job is to not talk to us unless we ask them to do something. It's my mom's, dad's, both of their decisions, and I've never been comfortable about – "

"Adaine." Machaira cut her off again. "It's me. I get it. I just wanted to know if they would rat us out to your parents or not." Adaine shook her head. She didn't think the servants' loyalty ran that deep. "Okay then." Machaira took her by the shoulder and guided Adaine toward the breakfast nook. "Family can be messy, and I don't judge you by your family, okay? I only care about you. I'm your friend, not your parents'." Machaira's tone softened, and Adaine's lips flicked into a smile. Machaira smiled back, feline lips filling out just enough to form the expression. Gods, Adaine wanted to kiss her so badly. But the thought of crossing the gap between them made her heart leap into her throat. She wished Machaira would take that step for her, to help Adaine get the confidence to open up. If only – oh.

"Machaira, can you show me how you flirt?" Adaine requested. Machaira blinked, caught off guard, but Adaine could practically see Fig's sly grin over the tabaxi's shoulder. Knowing that the tiefling would approve of her plan somehow didn't help.

"Um, I mean, I already went over this with Kristen," Machaira reminded her. "I, uh, didn't really flirt with people so much as seduce them. It was less about how to get a date and more about, you know…" Oh, Adaine hadn't forgotten. "Besides, what worked for me probably wouldn't work for you: different techniques for different people."

"No, I don't want you to teach me how to flirt," Adaine clarified. "I want you to show me how you used to pick someone up. Try it on me, please?" She added when Machaira still seemed hesitant. Something akin to panic darted through Machaira's gaze. Adaine could see fear, confusion, and shame in her expression before all three were replaced by desire, a heavy wanting for something (she thought) she could never have. Machaira stood up from the table and whirled around, walking around the corner and out of sight before Adaine could fully process what was happening. For a terrifying moment, Adaine thought that she had scared her friend away. Before the panic could fully take over, Machaira strolled back into the room, expression somewhere between an amused smile and a lazy smirk. Adaine instantly zeroed in on the two undone buttons at the top of her jacket. The tabaxi made her way towards Adaine, yellow eyes locked onto blue, exuding confidence with each long step, just as she had on karaoke night.

"Buy you a drink?" She asked, pulling her chair back to face Adaine as she sat. A hint of a purr rumbled in her voice. Her gaze, fixed on Adaine's, carried a playful assurance. Her relaxed posture was strong without restraining Adaine's movement from the table. Machaira's intent was clear, but every line of her body was unthreatening.

"Maybe," Adaine tried to play along, probably smiling more than was realistic. "Depends on what you want in return."

"It's not what I want; it's what I can offer," Machaira corrected her, mischief lighting her yellow eyes, tail waving over her head.

"Oh?" Adaine challenged. Machaira inclined her head with a hum. "And what do you have to offer?" Machaira's smirk curled higher, and she turned over her shoulder towards the kitchen.

"A drink for the young lady," she requested of the elemental servants, a hint of a growl vibrating in her voice. Machaira turned back to Adaine, predatory satisfaction clear in her expression. "Whatever she wants." There was a weight to the statement that made it clear she wasn't talking about drinks, and a thrill ran through Adaine. The tabaxi extended her hand toward the wizard. "My name's Machaira by the way."

"Adaine," the elf managed, taking the offered hand. Machaira, instead of shaking, brought Adaine's hand to her mouth and kissed her knuckles without breaking eye contact. Adaine's breathing stopped completely for a second.

"Nice to meet you," the rogue responded, releasing Adaine's hand as if the diviner wasn't totally charmed. An elemental whisked over with a glass of water that Adaine sucked down, suddenly very thirsty. "Want to dance?"

"How can we dance with no music?" Adaine challenged, trying to take back some control over the interaction. Machaira stood and held out a scarred hand toward Adaine again.

"We'll make some music," she promised. And like that, Adaine knew that Machaira had her. She accepted the hand once more, content to go wherever the tabaxi escorted her. "Follow my lead." Machaira instructed. In that moment, Adaine would have stripped naked and laid down on the floor if the scout had asked.

Instead, Machaira began to lead Adaine in a dance. Adaine had learned how to waltz for fancy events with her parents, but she had never attempted anything as fast paced or chaotic as the rhythm Machaira set. The two girls whirled through the small space, the nimble tabaxi driving the clumsy high elf back several steps as she prowled forward before pulling Adaine back with her and spinning to get behind the wizard, gleaming eyes and fangs poking out over her shoulder as Machaira steered Adaine across the room, one hand on her hip and the other clasped to Adaine's, pointed straight across the room in the direction they were strutting. Adaine stumbled along with her, brain stuttering and heart racing as she tried to predict the next motion.

"Don't look at my feet," Machaira ordered her. "Keep your eyes locked on mine and move with me. Your body will fall into the pattern naturally." Adaine wasn't sure, but she did as her friend asked. Machaira's golden orbs were bright and happy, as comfortable leading Adaine as she was to follow. The high elf's insecurities petered out as the quiet faith Machaira always had in Adaine washed over her. When Machaira twisted, Adaine mirrored the motion and found herself twirled about by the playful scout, coming to a stop with strong arms wrapped around her waist and a hint of a purr in one ear before she was spun back around.

As Machaira guided Adaine through the motions, she found that the rogue was right. Her muscles fell in line with the rhythm, slowly finding order within the entropy. Although there was no music, Machaira's boots tapped out a tempo against the hardwood, creating a beat for her to follow. If Adaine was honest, Machaira couldn't follow a rhythm half as well as Fig, and the choreography was fairly basic once the diviner stopped tripping over her own feet. However, the dance was energetic and spirited, animating both girls to laugh at their own silliness. Adaine found that the motions Machaira led her through also involved a lot of hip swaying and shimmying. As the rogue's leg slid between Adaine's, her pelvis leaned forward, curving away right before it touched, sliding her leg back and pulling Adaine along so that the wizard felt as if they were chasing each other. Arousing without being explicit, Machaira made herself enticing, as much encouraging Adaine to pursue her as she evaded direct contact. The tabaxi's hands roamed from her hips to her shoulders to her arms, and Adaine grinned at every touch, happy to let Machaira steer her about. She beamed at her friend, briefly forgetting why she had initiated her ridiculous plan in the first place. Machaira's joy matched her own for a moment before the pleasure in her eyes broke, grief and shame pushing through in its place.

"Why did you ask me to do this?" Machaira whispered, confidence abandoning her.

"I, I wanted to see this side of you," Adaine responded, bewildered. "I, I wanted to see what you would do."

"I would never do this to you," Machaira murmured, voice impossibly soft. "You deserve better than this."

"There's no one better than you," Adaine asserted quietly. "Not to me at least." She didn't know when they had stopped dancing, but she still held Machaira's hand. Adaine took a half step closer to the tabaxi, bringing them tantalizingly close. Machaira's scars were dull in the low light, and her fur was still messy and sticky with salt. But her eyes were bright as the sun. Adaine wanted to bring the warmth back to them. "You're the most amazing person I've ever met." Machaira held her gaze, clearly not believing her, but a hint of a smile returned to her expression. For a moment, the rogue merely drank in her presence. The look she gave Adaine then was sad but tender, full of the gentle love that she showed the high elf every day. Adaine's nerves were gone. This was Machaira. _Her_ Machaira. She knew what that meant now. Adaine inclined her head, lips barely parted.

FWOOOOSH!

The two girls leapt apart as if they had been scalded as the servants whisked past them to set the table for their meals. Machaira stalked over to the table, knocked into a chair, and almost fell over before rightening herself, pulling out Adaine's seat and fast walking to her own spot all in the same motion. Adaine blushed so hard she could feel the blood pressure in her face. She took her seat across from Machaira and stared straight down at her salad. Gods, she'd come so close only for everything to fall apart.

"I'm sorry I made things weird," Machaira mumbled, hands folded in her lap. "I, I used to act like that when I was, well, using people. I haven't done that, or pretended to, in a while. You – I don't want to be that person anymore, especially not to you." Machaira glanced sidelong at Adaine, fur bristling and throat tinged pink. "But I liked dancing with you."

"I liked dancing with you too," Adaine assured her. "I'm sorry for making you do that. I – sorry. Friends?" Machaira gave her a small smile.

"Always," she promised. Adaine smiled in return, and they ate their dinner in relative silence. The air elementals, perhaps sensing that they were under no obligation to impress Machaira, had only prepared her a plate of scrambled eggs with cheese. No friend of the Abernant household would ever be fed something so plain, but Machaira seemed to enjoy it. The girls made small talk as they ate. Adaine told Machaira that she'd added Blink to her spell book, and Machaira informed her that she'd decided to switch her feat credit from Charger to Mobile. When the tabaxi finished her meal, she collected both of their plates and gave Adaine a one arm side-hug before depositing their dishes in the sink. It was rare that anything came between them even briefly, and Adaine practically glowed to see that they were okay again.

"So, what now?" Machaira asked, retaking her seat.

"We could watch a movie in my room," Adaine suggested. "But I kinda want to take a shower first."

"Yeah, me too," Machaira agreed. The tabaxi followed her back upstairs but dithered at the threshold of Adaine's door. "You, um, you can shower first. I'll wait out here until you're done." It took Adaine a second to understand what her friend was getting at. The high elf flushed a deep red.

"I mean, you can stay in the room," Adaine told her. "I'm not going to make you sit out in the hall." Machaira hesitated, teething her lip a bit before following Adaine past the doorway. The wizard's eyes locked onto the rogue's mouth for a moment, wishing that she'd kissed her when she had the chance, before shaking herself.

"Do you mind if I read one of your books while you're in there?" Machaira asked, bending over to examine the bookshelf on the right-side wall.

"Uh, sure," Adaine responded, a little surprised. Machaira wasn't a big reader, but then Adaine supposed that she didn't have much else to do. Adaine straightened up with her pajamas in hand and turned toward the bathroom door just in time to see Machaira quickly look away from her. Adaine glanced down and surmised that the scout had either been checking out her ass or the pink panties clutched in her right hand. On a whim, Adaine shucked off her jacket and tossed it onto her bed. Although she still faced the bookshelf, Machaira stopped trying to sound out elven titles under her breath and froze save for her twitching ears and bristling mane. Adaine's breath caught in her throat as she wondered what her crush would do if she actually undressed in the same room. Fantasies of a lusty Machaira led Adaine to grasp the hem of her T-shirt before she lost her courage and ducked into the bathroom.

The high elf took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging firestorm of emotions that had consumed the past few hours. The part of her that was still an awkward little girl afraid of being embarrassed wanted to drop it, pretend that she didn't almost strip for her friend, and never confront her crush. But the part of her that fought monsters and stopped apocalypses, the part of her that solved problems, knew that she couldn't ignore how she felt. This was something she had to do, not only for herself, but for Machaira. The poor girl was so afraid of her rejection. As awkward as the night had been for Adaine, her friend only knew half the story. She wanted Machaira to be her girlfriend. She wanted this awkwardness to go away forever. But she needed Machaira to be okay, to feel safe and loved around her. Machaira had been the one to encourage Adaine to make her life for her own, and Adaine was determined that Machaira would be a part of her life.

As the young wizard showered, she mulled over how to best approach the situation. When Adaine toweled off, she briefly considered walking out butt naked to spark a reaction, but her better judgement won out. If she wanted Machaira to open up with her, she couldn't start off nude. That was more of a second or third step kind of move. After Adaine pulled on her pajamas, she exited the bathroom to find Machaira sitting cross-legged on the floor on the opposite side of the bed with a book in her lap, lips silently mouthing elven script.

"Hey, what are you reading?" Adaine inquired, coming around to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. Machaira started and glanced up guiltily at Adaine, ears going back against her head.

"Just, uh, a book from your shelf," she stammered, staring at the floor. Adaine leaned over to see what Machaira had selected. The title in question was basically an encyclopedia of elven culture explaining the traditions, history, do's and don't's of high elves. Adaine hated the thing and probably hadn't touched it in years. Machaira currently had the tome open to a chapter on interacting with other species. Adaine glanced back at her friend to see a dark red blush bleeding through her throat and cheek fur.

"You know, you can talk to me, right?" Adaine asked quietly.

"I didn't know how to ask without being rude," Machaira murmured. Adaine waited. The tabaxi looked up at her, expression apologetic and scared. "I – you're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you: not Riz, not Fig, not Fabian – no one. But, when we were on our way to the Durinson Mithral Factory, you told Kristen that it was hard for you to relate to her because you were immortal. I, I hadn't thought about that before. I mean, I always knew that you were, but I hadn't thought about it much until then. And I know that you care about all of us, but I, I wanted to know if – what you had been taught – brought up to think about… do we matter to you, or are we just temporary toys?"

Machaira's voice faded to a whisper. For a second Adaine didn't even understand the question. When it finally clicked, she got mad. How, after all that they'd been through together, could Machaira possibly doubt that she cared about the tabaxi? How dare this rogue, after all that talk about judging Adaine for herself and not her lineage, lump her in with them? In her own room, no less! The hypocrisy was astounding. Adaine's body trembled with the strength of her fury, hands balled into fists. Machaira screwed her eyes shut and bowed her head, unable to meet her eyes. Adaine's gaze locked onto Machaira's right ear, the one that had been reduced to tattered shreds.

Adaine remembered that the ursine hadn't torn that one. Machaira had lost that ear as a child on the playground. She had spent her life alone because her own people, her own _family_ didn't want her around. They considered Machaira so deficient, that they had allowed her to be maimed. Machaira hunched her shoulders, bracing herself for Adaine's anger, reminding the high elf of the night her friend had told the party about her past. Adaine remembered that night for a lot of reasons, one of which was how quickly she had been ready to dismiss the scout before she heard her story. Until then, Adaine hadn't really considered that Machaira had her own insecurities to wrestle with, and she had almost rejected her best friend because of her own short-sightedness.

"I'm sorry," Machaira apologized quietly. "I should – I _do_ have more faith in you than that. I just, I don't – I don't have an excuse. I'm sorry." Machaira shouldn't look this way, scared and unsure and defeated. It wasn't right. Adaine was so used to seeing her friend confident and powerful. Earlier today Machaira had stood up to Adaine's father for her – again – and helped the wizard fight her bitch of a sister. The only reason the rogue was here at all was because of Adaine. Machaira had committed an international crime in invading Fallinel governmental property, which was punishable by death or life imprisonment, all because Adaine was sad, and Machaira hadn't wanted her to be alone.

Adaine's wrath faded as quickly as it came, and she slid off the bed to embrace her friend from the side.

"You mean the world to me," she murmured thickly, burying her face in the tabaxi's ruff.

"I'm sorry," her friend repeated, hands coming up to grasp Adaine's arms. "I shouldn't have doubted you."

"No, you really shouldn't have," Adaine confirmed. Machaira curled into herself. "But I get it. I'm going to live a long time, and I'm going to have a lot of friends in that time. But you're my best friend, okay? You're the most important person in my life. I'd be lost about you."

"I'll always be there for you," Machaira promised her quietly. "For as long as you want me."

"Then don't ever leave," Adaine told her. Machaira turned and hugged her properly.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Adaine reassured her. "We're okay." For a minute they simply held each other, confirming that the bond between them was still sound. Eventually they separated, and Adaine smiled at Machaira, cupping her cheek and petting along her face to scratch behind her ears. Machaira twisted down into Adaine's hand with a purr. Adaine grinned but removed her hand so that Machaira wouldn't get too disoriented. The tabaxi finally smiled back and stood, shuffling her feet a bit.

"Do you mind if I go shower now?" She asked. "I really want to get this crap out of my fur."

"Sure, go ahead," Adaine said. "I'll put your clothes in wash if you like."

"Thanks." Machaira pulled off her boots and set them outside the bathroom door, placing her bracelet beside them. She then unbuttoned her jacket and peeled back the scaly garment. Since Machaira was facing away from Adaine, the diviner could only see her muscular arms and the back of her vest. Still, the jacket's removal brought the shape of her butt into view, which Adaine appreciated. Machaira turned to unbuckle her weapons, and Adaine looked aside, recognizing the swap from their earlier positions with a blush. After the door closed behind her, Adaine sank back against her bed with a huff. Gods, being this close to Machaira without being able to fully express herself was hard. Hopefully she could fix the situation soon.

Machaira's saber, which had been carefully rested against the wall, slid to the ground with a clatter. Adaine took the liberty of arranging her weapons in a neat bundle tucked in the corner between her left nightstand and the wall. When she had finished, the wizard noticed Machaira's bracelet on the floor. She picked up the ornament, fingers running over the wyrmling scales. A band of bone made snap-on cuffs at either end to keep the decoration in place while Machaira fought. Adaine traced the red-on-blue symbol of a cat holding a knife cutting off the head of a snake: the sacred mark of Bast.

Adaine understood why druids, paladins, warlocks, and clerics worshipped deities. There was a clear line of rewards in place. She also understood why less enlightened individuals prostrated themselves before the gods, willing themselves to believe that these beings were somehow wiser or better than humanoids. But Machaira's belief had puzzled her a little. She knew the rogue had spoken with Bast at least a few times, but she never seemed to get anything out of worshipping her, nor was Machaira held to any real obligations under the war goddess. Then, during the fight with Sariah, while Adaine had Detect Magic running, she had seen the image of a hulking gnoll looming over Sariah, semi-transparent and red with wet blood. But when Machaira resisted the influence of Sariah's flail, a new figure had appeared, one of an armored tabaxi wielding two long knives, hovering over her friend with fangs bared in a baleful snarl against Yeenoghu. When Machaira dropped unconscious, the image had lingered long enough to touch Machaira's brow, lips curled in a grin that sent shivers down Adaine's spine. The figure had stood and stared directly at Adaine, eyes blazing in a harsh approximation of Machaira's predatory smirk before disappearing.

Machaira didn't seem aware that her goddess had been present at the fight. In fact, Kristen was the only other one who had seen the figure, and Adaine had eventually convinced her to keep quiet about it. Something about the goddess made her anxious, how she seemed equally pleased with Machaira's success as she had with her injuries. After researching Bast, Adaine was not reassured. The war goddess's followers were largely considered cultists, violent extremists exiled from their communities. Though her tenants all espoused the virtues of love and sacrifice, her methods were brutal. Her followers treated their opponents like prey, ruthlessly assassinating enemies of the war goddess. Followers of Bast also tended to die young. Still, if Machaira was to be believed, and she was, Bast had turned her life around. Bast had been the one to bring Machaira to Adaine. As the high elf thumbed the bracelet, a mix of thankfulness and anxiety overtook her, wondering what the mysterious being had in store for her friend.

"Uh, hey, Adaine?" Machaira called through the door. With a jolt, Adaine realized that the water had been turned off. "I, um, left the clothes you gave me out there. Do you think that you could, uh, pass them through the door to me? And maybe my bracelet, too? I wanted to wash it a bit."

"Oh, uh, sure," Adaine responded, glad that Machaira couldn't see the way her entire body flushed with heat at the request. She bumbled around her room, passing the pile of clothes twice before pulling together enough brain power to recognize and pick them up. Adaine knocked on the bathroom door, and a crack opened just wide enough for Machaira to slip her arm through, water streaming off her wet fur, adhering to the outline of her muscles. Machaira took the clothes with a mumbled thanks and shut the door. Steam wafted around Adaine's face. Something heavy _thumped_ against the bathroom door and slid to the floor.

"Fuck. I am so royally screwed." Machaira groaned, quietly enough that Adaine guessed the rogue was talking to herself. After a moment, something hard clicked against the floor, and the sounds of vigorously toweling masked any further words. The confirmation that Machaira was struggling with the same desires as Adaine both alieved her anxiety about pursuing the tabaxi and increased her sense of urgency in breaking through to her. Knowing that it took Machaira a while to dry off, Adaine moved away from the door and took her time to select a movie for the night, eventually settling on a romantic drama she had loved as a kid. Adaine hadn't seen it in a few years, but her memory of the movie was positive, and she hoped it would help set the mood. She also turned the temperature down to encourage as much cuddling as possible.

"So, what are we watching?" Machaira asked behind her, opening the door. Adaine turned with a smile and took a moment to appreciate the rare sight of Machaira's exposed arms. Adaine's shirt was a touch long on her, so it rode up a bit in the back where her tail poked out. The shirt was also a little tight in the chest, clinging nicely to her curves.

"It's, it's, wow, I, uh…" Adaine lost her train of thought because, for the first time in her memory, Machaira wasn't wearing long pants or socks. Adaine had never actually seen her legs before, and the sight took a bit of adjusting. The tabaxi stood on her toes instead of heels, and she only had eight toes. Well, seven – the pinky toe on her left foot was gone, as was a long slice out of the left side of her foot, replaced with smooth, white scar tissue. When she shifted her weight, thick, dull claws slid from their sheaths, kept clean like her hand claws. The sole and heel of her foot rose up to a high ankle normally concealed by her boots. Above this point, she had long, shapely humanoid legs, every bit as lean and toned as the rest of her body. The mottled tawny fur gave way to silver on the inner side of her legs, brightening to white as it disappeared under the short-shorts on her upper thigh. As Machaira rocked a half-step back, Adaine could see that there was a small gap between her well-defined thighs. The fur on her feet, as fine as that on the back of her hand, was littered with small marks and callouses. A dozen or more sets of divots in ovular patterns ran up each leg. The inside of her thighs was striped with horizontal bars of scar tissue that reminded Adaine of hands, or maybe claws. Her tail dropped to coil and twitch between her feet, for once looking natural against the fur of her legs, about the same length and thickness as that of her arms except for the fine, short fur approaching the inside of her hips. In the forty or so minutes Machaira had been in the bathroom, she had combed every part of her body until her legs, tail, mane, and arms shone.

"… I've never seen your legs before," Adaine finished eventually. Machaira crossed one leg over the other as if to hide them and uselessly tugged her shirt down, head bowed. "They look nice. You should wear shorts more often." Machaira's shoulders rolled in, tail lashing madly before she straightened and looked Adaine in the eyes.

"Thanks." She said firmly. "I won't, but I, uh, appreciate it." She winced, shoulders drooping a bit. "Thank you, Adaine, for not, you know, pointing out the, um, yeah."

"You shouldn't be ashamed of your scars," Adaine told her, crawling across the bed to sit on the edge facing Machaira. "You should be proud." Adaine reached out toward a bite mark on her calf, looking up for permission before making contact. Machaira bit her lip and nodded, eyes wide. Adaine gently traced the shape of the creature's jaw. She really wanted to touch her thighs but felt that might be pushing her luck a bit too far. "You have great legs. Seriously, I'd kill for legs like these."

"I did kill for these legs," Machaira reminded her. "Hunting is good cardio." Adaine giggled with her friend and wrapped her hands around the back of Machaira's knees, holding her close.

"You look good," she reassured her quietly. "I'm glad you're here." Machaira smiled down at her.

"Me too," she murmured, clawed fingers trailing through Adaine's hair. The wizard hummed appreciatively, smiling back. For a minute, they held their positions, content. Adaine wanted to run her hands up Machaira's thighs and kiss the soft, newly exposed pelt. But she didn't want to lose this peace they shared. Adaine pulled back across the bed just as Machaira's hand drifted down Adaine's back toward her hip. By the time Adaine realized what her friend was doing, Machaira had retreated entirely, blushing furiously as she backed away from the bed. To her credit, Adaine managed not to scream in pure frustration, knowing that if she had waited two goddamn seconds Machaira would have escalated the situation for her. Instead, she kept calm and pretended like nothing had happened, smiling warmly up at Machaira as she informed the scout of her movie selection. Adaine offered to take Machaira's clothes, and the fur-covered towels she had dried herself with, down to the washroom. After passing the laundry off to an elemental servant, Adaine took fifteen seconds to have a near silent tantrum at how much fate hated her before returning to her crush.

The two girls sat on the bed, and Adaine started the movie. The crystal in her room wasn't giant, but it was big enough. The plot was a typical high elf political romance, which meant that the movie's progression was methodical but never had a moment in which it wasn't making some statement about life or the world or elven kind in general. Adaine quickly realized that the movie no longer had the same allure it did three years ago. Machaira also didn't seem too interested. For one thing, the movie was in elvish, and while Machaira could carry a conversation, Adaine wasn't sure how much of the movie she was following. Machaira also kept fidgeting, trying to pick at her claws or fur without being obvious. After twenty minutes of this, the diviner paused the movie and turned to Machaira.

"Do you want to watch something else?" Adaine asked.

"No, no," Machaira protested. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just, um – there's more I need to do to, to groom myself. I wasn't bored. I didn't want to interrupt the movie."

"What do you need to do?" Adaine was pretty sure the rogue was bored, but she also wanted her friend to feel comfortable around her. Machaira often complained about the lengthy amount of time required to keep her body in good health, but Adaine had only ever seen the scout quickly run a comb through her mane. And, sleepover stereotypes asides, she'd take any excuse she could get to play with Machaira's fur. The tabaxi mumbled something incoherent. Adaine waited patiently.

"I want to sharpen my claws," Machaira finally admitted, shoulders rolling over her head. She held out a hand for Adaine to inspect. Her broad, wicked-looking claws had grown past the point where they could fit inside her fingers. The keratinous hooks had a scraggly appearance to them, and the tips were beginning to pierce the pads of her fingers. "I also want to give my coat another once over." Machaira started to pull her hand away, and Adaine reached out to take Machaira's hand in her own. The rogue froze, letting Adaine poke at her. The wizard rubbed her thumb back and forth over Machaira's scarred palm and ran her fingertips over Machaira's claws. She could feel the rough, uneven edges where the outer sheath was beginning to splinter and crack. Adaine glanced up at Machaira to see if it was painful, but the scout merely seemed nervous, like she was afraid of what Adaine might say. As Adaine traced a scar with her thumb, a smile flitted across Machaira's lips.

"What do you need to sharpen them?" Adaine asked, continuing to play with Machaira's hand.

"A piece of wood," she murmured, a little more relaxed under Adaine's touch. "I have a pine bole at my camp, but honestly this can wait – okay, never mind." Adaine drew a fifteen-centimeter curved block of bark-covered pine from her jacket pocket with one hand. She tossed the garment off the bed and offered the wood to Machaira, who took it with a mumbled thanks. "I'll, I'll use this when the movie's over."

"Use it whenever you like," Adaine encouraged, dropping Machaira's hand to walk into the bathroom and grab her hairbrush. "But I'm brushing your fur right now." Adaine sat cross-legged in front of a somewhat bewildered Machaira and held the brush up like a weapon. "Where do you want it first?" The rogue glanced from the piece of wood in her hand to Adaine, ears back and tail twitching nervously. Adaine forced herself to be patient. After a few seconds Machaira's ears flicked up, tail whipping as she spun around and lay down on her stomach with her head hanging off the edge of the bed.

"My mane, please," she requested, voice almost vibrating with poorly repressed glee. Adaine grinned at her victory and scooted into position. Machaira sighed with pleasure as Adaine began to brush the thick mass of fur behind her head. While already smooth and silky, Adaine began to pull a surprising amount of fur out in the brush.

"Is this normal?" she asked, showing Machaira the brush.

"Oh, uh, yeah, it is. I'm, uh, shedding a little." The tabaxi squeezed her shoulder blades together a bit.

"So long as it's normal," Adaine replied, ignoring her friend's nervousness and continuing with her task. "I like brushing you anyway. Not as much as petting you though." Even as she said it, Adaine wished that she could tangle her fingers in Machaira's mane. There were dozens of things Adaine wanted to do with the rogue at the moment, but right now was hair care time, so she had to show a little self-control. "You can sharpen your claws if you want to." Machaira studied the piece of wood in her hands. "I like you, Machaira, all of you, including the cat parts. You don't have to hide yourself from me." Machaira hunched her shoulders again. Suddenly Machaira sank her claws into the impromptu scratcher, furiously tearing the wood to pieces.

"Thank you, Adaine," she growled, almost cracking her new gift in half. "I'm sorry I was being so sensitive."

"I want you to feel safe with me," the wizard reminded her. Machaira paused her assault to look back over her shoulder at Adaine.

"I do," she promised. "Sometimes I forget to leave my baggage behind when I'm with you though."

"It's part of you," Adaine said. "You don't have to pretend that you're perfect. Just trust me, and I'll take care of you."

"I know." Machaira said that so simply, as if the idea wasn't laughable. Adaine didn't even know if she could take care of Machaira, or anyone else for that matter. But her best friend had faith in her, and Adaine felt a swell of confidence rise within her. She could command the forces of magic, and she could help her friend. Soon, they'd be more than friends. Adaine happily brushed the tabaxi's fur while Machaira committed war crimes against the wood block. By the time Machaira threw the ravaged block into Adaine's trashcan, her claws had a smooth, glossy sheen to match her mane, which Adaine wasted no time burying her face in. Machaira allowed Adaine to nuzzle her neck for a minute before rising up and scooting behind her.

"Your turn," the scout declared, scraping her fur out of the brush and into the trash before she set about brushing Adaine's hair. Machaira unpaused the movie but kept Adaine sitting up. The high elf felt the tension melt from her body as Machaira worked her over. It had been awhile since Machaira had combed or brushed her. Gods, she had forgotten how nice the little tugs on her head were, and how much nicer the intimacy felt as Machaira groomed her.

"Mmmm, don't you need to brush the rest of your fur?" Adaine inquired quietly, growing sleepy as her friend brushed her.

"Oh yeah, my whole pelt needs a once over," Machaira confirmed. "It's been combed but not brushed."

"I'd be happy to help with that," Adaine offered, her mind immediately going into the gutter. The brush slowed in her hair.

"Tomorrow, if you still want to… I'd like that," Machaira answered slowly, and Adaine smiled, thrilled that Machaira planned to stay a while. She found herself playing with Machaira's tail, petting the unruly limb flat every time it flicked. When Machaira had finished, Adaine flopped back against her friend, scooting into her lap and reaching up and behind to clumsily pet the tabaxi's head. Machaira began to laugh and purr in a strange, beautiful, bubbly rumble of happiness. Adaine grinned and scooched back, arm bumping into Machaira's ribs as she did so. The scout immediately clamped her jaws on a grunt, and Adaine whirled around to face her. Machaira met Adaine's inquiring gaze with a guilty look.

"It's nothing," she said, immediately giving away the fact that she was hurting. "I'm just a little bruised from earlier."

"Where?" Adaine asked, placing a hand on Machaira's side. A little probing quickly found a spot on her ribs where Machaira bit back a wince. Without thinking, Adaine lifted Machaira's shirt to take a look. The rogue stiffened, and Adaine froze, realizing her error too late. Adaine could just see the mark, which was really a burn and not a bruise, through her friend's singed fur at the base of the rib cage. While Machaira's chest was still covered, a huge white scar across her stomach had been revealed, and the tabaxi was holding her breath, wide eyes fixed on Adaine's hand holding her shirt just under her breasts.

"Do you want something for that?" Adaine managed eventually, trying to act like nothing unusual had happened. She was impressed with how steady her voice was.

"No, I'm good," Machaira declined, her own voice a little husky. "My back took the worst of it. My chest is just a little tender is all." Adaine barely managed not to bite her lip and whimper at the rogue's tone and word choice. She was hyper-aware of the fact that her friend was not wearing a bra, especially when she noticed how Machaira's nipples had pebbled through the t-shirt. _Not yet, not yet, not yet_ Adaine mentally chided herself.

"I have a cream that soothes burns," Adaine offered, trying to stay calm. Machaira nodded, lids partially closed over a gaze dark with need. Adaine slowly lowered her friend's shirt and turned to walk into the bathroom, only releasing a shuddering, tension filled breath when the door had closed. She grabbed the salve from her medical cabinet, took a second to smooth her expression, and stepped back out.

"Do you want me to rub it in for you?" She asked, trying to seem innocent. "It might be a little awkward for you to do yourself." Machaira flinched, arms folding over her chest. Her expression morphed from one of want to one of fear and shame. Her ears flattened, tail lashing about the bed.

"My, um, my back is kinda – really fucked up," she murmured. "I know all of me is, and I know that you don't care. I, I just feel… _exposed_ when people look at it." Machaira's breathing quickened, shirt quivering with each shallow breath.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Adaine reminded her. Machaira shook her head.

"No, I trust you. I just need to get over myself, and – I'm sorry. I've been a mess all night. I'm freaking out all over the place over nothing, and I keep ruining everything, and – " Adaine rushed over and hugged Machaira, arms going around her neck. The scout flinched with a whimper then returned the hug tightly, trembling in the diviner's arms.

"You're okay," Adaine soothed. "You haven't ruined anything. And you're not freaking out over nothing." She rubbed Machaira's back, trying to emulate the tactics that always made her feel better. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'm not mad. You're safe here. You're okay." Machaira's panting gradually slowed, shivers easing into stillness as Adaine held her. The elf heard her friend whisper humiliated apologies into her shoulder. "You have nothing to be sorry for." Machaira pulled away, head bowed and whiskers pulled back. "Do you want me to do your back, or would you rather do it?" Adaine offered again. Machaira bit her lip again, completely distracting the wizard for a few seconds.

Slowly, Machaira laid down on her stomach and grabbed the hem of her shirt. Tail trembling against the covers, she inched her shirt up so that the front just obscured her breasts, pulling the back of the shirt up to her shoulder blades. Machaira folded her arms against her sides, hands fisting in the sheets next to her head, face pressed into the duvet. Adaine was left with a good view of a single, massive burn that covered most of the other girl's back. The burn was clearly years old and had healed as much as it ever would. The red swath of skin was roughly egg-shaped, with the top of the narrow end even with the center of her spine between the shoulder blades and the base of the wide end about two thirds of the way down her back. Long, soft fur grew below and around the uneven edge, but the burn itself was bare. Weapon scars cut across the burn, some older and some newer. The newer scars had formed slightly raised ridges of tough, red tissue, a little wrinkled when compared to Machaira's other scars. Adaine thanked the gods that wyvern scales were flame retardant because the black marks of flame and frostbite from Aelwyn's spells looked especially painful on the older blemish.

"I'd like it if you did it," Machaira murmured. "Just not in my fur, if you can. That would take a while to clean out." Adaine blinked, took a deep breath, and maneuvered behind Machaira. Gods, no wonder why Machaira was so nervous about people seeing her back. A part of Adaine was afraid to touch her. She didn't know what she would do if Machaira fully broke down. The scout's tail trembled between her legs, muscles standing out on her back from tension. Adaine steeled herself. She panicked several times a week over her parents playing favorites, and Machaira never made her feel anything less than loved and cared for. Machaira was well within her rights to be uncomfortable at the moment, and Adaine would be damned if she wasn't going to help her. Adaine positioned herself over her friend's waist and squeezed a dollop of salve onto her palm, rubbing it onto both hands to buy herself a little more time.

"Let me know if you want me to stop," Adaine told her. Machaira nodded into the covers, knuckles turning white as she gripped the bed. Adaine began to gently rub the salve over a black mark from Aelwyn's Fireball, careful to avoid smearing it in Machaira's fur. Spasms rippled through the girl beneath her, but Machaira didn't pull away. Slowly, Adaine worked the ointment into the wound. The skin over the burn felt weird, like it had been stretched to cover her body. Beneath her skin, Machaira's back was hard as granite, muscles visibly undulating at the wizard's touch. Her skin was warm, just as she always was. Machaira choked back a strangled noise, barely audible at the edge of Adaine's hearing.

"You're fine," Machaira ground out when Adaine started to pull back. "I'm good." She clearly wasn't good, but Adaine screwed up her resolve and kept going. She carefully worked the cream into Machaira's burns, aware of the rogue's shudders but ignoring them. When Adaine had finished treating the new injuries Aelwyn inflicted, she began to work the salve into Machaira's older burn with both hands, firm but gentle. Machaira continued to shiver for several minutes but eventually began to still under Adaine's ministrations, tension gradually easing away. The high elf waited until Machaira had relaxed her death grip on the comforter to lean over and murmur in her ear.

"You're not weak, you're not ugly, and you're not a burden." Adaine told her. "I know you haven't had the best experiences with people accepting you, but I'm gonna support the shit out of you." Machaira huffed, humor creeping back in as PTSD faded. "Even the strongest people need to be weak sometimes, to be sad and scared and stressed. But you don't have to be alone for it. Whenever you need me, whenever you _want_ me, I'll be there, just like how you're always there for me." Machaira wrapped her tail around Adaine's waist, and the diviner could have cheered at her victory. She dug the heel of her hands into Machaira's back, and the tabaxi arched her spine into the motion with a dull groan. "Thanks for taking those hits for me earlier."

"Of course," Machaira growled back. "Can't let that bitch get away with her shit." Adaine snickered, fully massaging Machaira now. She had no idea what she was doing, but the action was weirdly enjoyable. She'd gotten use to the texture of burned scars and appreciated the feel of hard muscle under her fingers. Adaine liked the free reign to touch Machaira even more. After rubbing all the ointment off of her hands and into Machaira's wounds, Adaine reached up to rub Machaira's shoulders, marveling at the dichotomy between silky fur and stony muscle, a sensation she was familiar with but never ceased to enjoy. Machaira eased further under her touch, resting her cheek on crossed arms.

"Nyy-uhhhh-uhhhhhnnng," Machaira moaned, lips parted, eyes fluttered closed. Clawed fingers gripped the sheets again, but the tabaxi's expression was markedly different from earlier. Adaine's breath caught in her throat. She bit her lip, suddenly noticing how she was straddling Machaira's waist and the generous amount of side-boob Machaira was showing. Adaine only had to lean back a bit to feel Machaira's firm ass between her legs. Adaine's sex clenched. She wanted this, and she knew that Machaira wanted this. But as the wizard bent over to kiss Machaira, her fingers slipped into the groove of a scar cresting her left shoulder, the same one Adaine had been admiring on New Year's Eve. She hesitated. That night, Adaine had been vulnerable, but Machaira respected her enough not to take advantage of it. Machaira had never tried to take advantage of Adaine's emotional vulnerability because she always, always put Adaine first. The elf sat up and released a long, silent breath. Machaira was in this position because she felt safe with Adaine. She'd been used by countless people. The least Adaine could do was show some self-restraint. She needed to talk to Machaira before she could take such privileges.

As Adaine had a moment of disappointing maturity, her massage ground to a halt without her noticing. During this pause, Machaira reached around and pulled her down to the bed. Adaine yelped as she fell, lying halfway on Machaira's back and side. Her legs tangled with Machaira's, and the tabaxi's tail wrapped itself around her limbs so many times Adaine didn't think they'd ever get it free. Machaira hummed happily, reaching her right arm underneath Adaine to cup her head, fingers gently scratching her hair. The heat coming off of her friend quickly warmed the wizard. Adain leaned her head onto Machaira's shoulder and wanted for nothing else from life. Machaira nuzzled her, soft facial fur tickling Adaine's cheek.

"Thank you," she murmured sleepily, smiling at Adaine. Her expression was so soft and tender, Adaine couldn't help but feel treasured. The diviner looped her left arm over Machaira's exposed back and reached out with her right hand for Machaira's left. The rogue intertwined her fingers with Adaine, and the girls laid their heads on their joined arms. Adaine took advantage of her position to bury her face in the crook of Machaira's shoulder, letting the scout's scent wash over her. Machaira smelled fresher and cleaner than she had earlier, like a basket of warm, fury laundry. A sense of security stole over Adaine, a rare sensation in the household that judged her so harshly.

"I'd be lost without you," Adaine told Machaira quietly.

"You'd be fine," she rebutted with a small shake of her head, cuddling closer, fingers trailing lazily in Adaine blonde locks. Adaine sighed, surrendering herself to the gentle touches. They held their position for a few minutes until the air elementals dumped their laundry outside the door with an obnoxious _thump_. Adaine whined wordlessly as she wormed free of Machaira, trudged to the door, and haphazardly flung the basket into the corner. As she crawled back up to Machaira, the tabaxi wrapped her arm around Adaine and pulled the wizard against her side. Adaine snuggled into her friend's embrace, sliding one arm under Machaira's neck to hold her shoulder and looping the other over the other girl's back. The high elf accidently kicked her friend as she forced her legs to tangle with Machaira's once more, prompting a good-natured chuckle. The thick tail flopped over Adaine's waist and back. The diviner had only to rest her head on Machaira's arm for the moment to be perfect.

"Comfy?" Machaira teased sleepily.

"Mhmm," Adaine confirmed, burying her face in the crook of Machaira's neck. She brushed her cheek against the soft shoulder fur until Machaira rubbed her muzzle along Adaine's head. Adaine had learned to love the rough, friendly motion and happily wriggled closer to the tabaxi. She nuzzled Machaira a little longer until the scout got the memo and resumed playing with her hair. Satisfied, Adaine hummed and twisted to peek out at the movie, which had been running in the background for hours now. It was amazing how a little white noise helped their cuddling sessions.

Adaine was aware that her friend was still mostly exposed. The wizard was half-lying on her, and even through her sleep shirt Adaine could feel the difference between Machaira's bare back and side and her clothed shoulder. While this would normally be very sexy and start a chain reaction of blushing, nervous fantasies, and more blushing, the high elf was too content to be terribly concerned. She enjoyed the close contact with Machaira's skin, and the little bit of her stomach that brushed against the tabaxi's fur was especially warm. But the moment between them was peaceful and calm and _safe_. Gods, that word had taken on a new meaning ever since she met Machaira. Being safe wasn't only about being protected from harm, it was about being willingly vulnerable and open. Safety was a person who wouldn't shame you for your faults. Safety meant understanding and the warm glow of acceptance, having a place with others. And Adaine had zero intention of losing that feeling between them because her friend revealed a little tasteful side-boob.

Machaira entwined her fingers in Adaine's hair and rocked her wrist backward, gently tugging on head. A warm glow rippled out from the sensation, amplified as she carefully scratched Adaine's scalp. The wizard groaned quietly, lying boneless against the rogue as clawed fingers resumed stroking her. If Machaira had asked, she would have rolled over and spread her legs, but the scout seemed equally content to snuggle, yellow eyes blinking as she struggled to stay awake, warm with affection for the diviner.

No, warm with love. That was what pushed Machaira to encourage Adaine. That was what caused the tabaxi to comfort her when she was sad and granted her the patience to put up with her endless panic attacks. Love told Machaira to help the high elf grow in strength and forgive her when she fucked up. Adaine's parents doled out love as a reward, but Machaira gave her love freely. Her love could be tender as it was now, or it could be savage as it was during the fight against Coach Daybreak. Adaine wasn't sure if she felt as strongly as Machaira did, but she wanted to. She wanted to provide Machaira with everything she had given to Adaine. As Adaine nuzzled her crush, she reaffirmed her promise to break down that last wall between them – after cuddle time though.

"Tired?" Adaine inquired as Machaira shook her head for the third time, ears flicking about.

"A little, but I'm good," Machaira assured her. "I can finish this." Oh, right, the movie. Adaine had almost forgotten, but apparently Machaira was at least trying to follow along. Adaine turned her attention back to the screen, fingers toying with Machaira's sleeve. Since elves lived forever and slept half as much as other humanoids, their movies tended to be very, very long. Six hours in, they had just gotten to the scene where the political rival of the main character committed treason. Adaine had seen the movie a half dozen times before and could mentally recite every line before it came up. But she had forgotten about the rival politician's slave – sorry, assistant – who had no lines and existed in the movie only to showcase his relative power and authority. Adaine's sleepiness left her as she noticed new details about the assistant, namely her tall ears and tail.

"Is she, um, is she a tabaxi?" Adaine asked slowly, unnerved. "I've never really noticed her before."

"Uh, no, she's um…" Machaira shifted a bit, suddenly uncomfortable, and removed her hand from Adaine's hair. "She's a half-baxi: half tabaxi and half high elf. Besides, didn't you say that this was your favorite movie out of Fallinel for most of your childhood?"

"I haven't seen it since I was eleven. I just remembered that it was a good romantic drama." Adaine defended herself, appraising the figure with new interest. She'd never given much thought to the slim elven girl before; but now that she was looking closer, Adaine could pick out the feline characteristics that had become so familiar. While the idea of a half tabaxi/ half high elf jumpstarted twenty dozen ideas that went nowhere, Adaine wasn't surprised that she hadn't made the connection before. Machaira was the first and only tabaxi Adaine had ever met, and this girl wasn't even a proper character in the movie. Her only purpose in being onscreen was to display the rightful dominance of the high elven race over the others and the political rival's success in bringing the lesser species – oh shit.

"So, um, last time I watched this movie, I wasn't exactly politically savvy or knowledgeable about – I didn't understand – discriminatory or – I didn't remember this."

"No, I, I, understand," Machaira protested quietly. "Nostalgia glasses can sometimes skew childhood memories, and with, um, your, you know, family, you probably would've been exposed to a lot of… not great stuff." Machaira winced at the lame ending to her sentence and pulled away a little, tail _thwapping_ against the sides of the bed and rustling over the covers. Adaine paid closer attention to her movie choice, horror and embarrassment mounting as the film progressed over the next hour and a half, during which Machaira steadily disengaged herself from Adaine's hold.

Younger Adaine hadn't picked up on it, but the best friend to the female lead was obviously a repressed lesbian in love with her. She had also forgotten how many off-handed slurs were thrown at the best friend character for being half high elf and half wood elf, the harshest of which was _beast_. When the best friend encouraged the female lead to pursue the male lead, who was much less interesting than Adaine remembered him, it was painted as an act of necessity or duty, like the best friend couldn't or shouldn't do otherwise. When the best friend then went to the shrine of Corellon to pray for absolution for her impurity of heart, Adaine wished she could cast Banishment on herself. By the time the movie ended, Adaine's last remaining hope for the night rested on Machaira's shaky grasp of the elvish language and cultural nuances. Adaine looked over at Machaira, and one glance at her expression told the wizard that she wasn't the only one who had benefitted from their insight class.

"I, I didn't understand, or remember, both, really. I'm so sorry – "

"I judge you by you," Machaira cut her off. "It's okay. I get it." Machaira tugged her shirt down her body before rising to her knees, much to Adaine's disappointment. The rogue offered her a weary smile. Adaine knew that Machaira wouldn't change her opinion about Adaine over a dumb movie, but it had absolutely killed the mood. Machaira's body language was more reserved now, tail curled around the opposite side of her body from Adaine.

"I'm still sorry I didn't show you something better," Adaine tried, wracking her brain for a way to salvage a positive end to the night. Machaira shook her head.

"It's fine." The strain in the scout's voice was almost palpable.

"Machaira, are you okay?" Adaine asked gently. Machaira screwed her eyes closed and drew in a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm just really tired," she whined, voice close to cracking. Adaine glanced at the time at the bottom of her crystal's screen: four-thirty a.m. With a sickening lurch in her stomach, she remembered her father saying that Machaira had arrived at the Aberrant Manor at four-thirty yesterday morning, meaning Machaira had been up for over twenty-four hours, much of which she had spent on yard work, both before and after she was burned, frozen, and insulted. Then Machaira had endured an evening of Adaine's flirting, still unaware that their crush went both ways. She'd exposed herself in more ways than one only for Adaine to make her sit through an elvish superiority movie decrying lesbianism. Machaira wasn't just tired; she was physically and emotionally exhausted.

"Why don't we go to sleep?" Adaine suggested quietly, lightly patting Machaira's shoulder as if coddling a skittish animal.

"Okay," Machaira sighed. Adaine crawled over to the mountain of pillows at the head of her king-sized bed and tilted a few back to make a better sleeping spot next to her. When she turned around, Machaira was gone. Adaine sat up, craning her neck to look around. Machaira was lying down on the carpet to the right of her bed, arms crossed under her head. "What are you doing down there?" Adaine asked. Machaira lifted her muzzle to look at her, and Adaine had to force back her parents' earlier comments about a tabaxi's place. "Come sleep up here."

"You want me to sleep in your bed with you," Machaira restated, voice small. Adaine winced internally. The poor rogue had been flung through every emotional high and low conceivable that day, and Adaine had been hoping that a long rest with cuddling could salvage a happy ending. But Machaira still didn't fully understand the situation between them, and the idea of being invited to sleep in bed with Adaine but not be able to – gods, this was so needlessly complicated.

"You don't have to," Adaine told her gently. "But I really don't want you to sleep on the floor. You deserve better than that." Machaira's tail kinked, ears flat, before she leapt into the bed. Adaine's surge of glee dampened when Machaira curled into a ball a good foot away from her on the bed, fluffy tail wrapping over her nose. Adaine bit back a frustrated comment. She'd seen Machaira sleep like this before but never in place of cuddling with Adaine. Machaira was stressed out, and Adaine was going to have to be patient and wait until tomorrow to fix everything.

"Good night, Machaira," Adaine murmured, folding her hands under her cheek.

"Good night, Adaine."

Adaine didn't know how long she was asleep for, but her trance was tumultuous and uncomfortable. The high elf didn't so much dream as misremember. Images flashed through her mind of her parents leaving her and her sister attacking her. Loss threatened to crush Adaine as her family left her. She stood at the gate of Abernant Manor, locked out of her own home. The house had burned down along with all of her belongings, but her family was gone. Adaine had been left behind. She wasn't important enough to them. She didn't matter enough.

"Adaine," a familiar voice snapped her awake. Adaine awoke to a full-blown panic attack, lungs pumping quick and shallow without actually drawing in air, tears streaming down her cheeks. She scrabbled at the sheets, trying to get free of ideas that lived inside her head.

"Adaine, it's me." Adaine zeroed in on the soft voice. Golden eyes flashed in the dark as Machaira rested her forehead to Adaine's. "I'm here. I'm here with you." Gentle hands cupped her cheeks, wiping tears from her face. "It's Machaira. I'm here. You're safe." Adaine's arms struggled free of the covers and seized Machaira, wrapping tightly around the tabaxi. "You're safe with me. You're in your bed. You're where you belong." Adaine was crying, what little air she took in wasted on a thin wail of loss and fear as she clung to her anchor. Machaira continued to talk to her, one hand moving up to stroke her hair. Adaine tried to press herself closer, but the blankets separated them. The wizard kicked and scraped at the sheets until Machaira slipped underneath them to join her. Soon Machaira had her back half propped on pillows, Adaine cradled against her chest.

The diviner sobbed brokenly, body shaking as the worst panic attack she'd had in years worked its way through her. Deep down, Adaine had always known that her parents didn't consider her a part of the family, but she had never had their disdain displayed so harshly before. Her fear of being unloved and unwanted had been realized, and Adaine was scared. If her family could abandon her, what would stop her friends from doing the same? The high elf trembled, feeling smaller than she had ever felt in her life.

Machaira held her gently, petting her hair and murmuring a steady stream of nothings into her ear. Strong arms surrounded Adaine, keeping her close and supporting her body. The tabaxi's voice was heavy with exhaustion but impossibly tender. Machaira radiated heat, producing a small, warm bubble in the freezing room. The rogue rubbed her back in firm circles, which made it weirdly easier for her to breathe. Her warm, clean smell surrounded the wizard like an extra security blanket. Adaine pressed her face into Machaira's shoulder and felt the tickle of fur and fabric instead of bumpy wyvern scales, though the hard muscle and soft chest beneath her was the same. After Adaine managed to gasp out bits and pieces of her nightmare through her sobs, Machaira didn't say that the high elf was being silly or that it was only a dream. She didn't tell Adaine that everything would be okay.

"You're strong," she murmured. "You matter, Adaine. You're not alone. I'm here. I'm here with you. I'm here for you."

"Please don't go," Adaine whimpered into her chest. Machaira pressed her lips to the crown of Adaine's head, holding them there for too long to be considered a proper kiss.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," Machaira promised, whispering into her hair. "Whatever you need, I'll be there. I love you, Adaine." The world faded around her.

When Adaine awoke, it was with a groggy moan. Last night filtered through her memory in bits and pieces. The nightmare wasn't a complete picture, but everything else slowly became clear. She groaned, burying her face into the furry shoulder beneath her. Oh, right. Adaine lifted her head so that she could look down at her tabaxi pillow. Machaira was still fast asleep, shirt stained from where Adaine had cried (and probably sniffled) on her. But she knew the rogue wouldn't begrudge the sheer emotional fuckery that was last night. When Machaira properly woke up, her first concern would be to make sure Adaine was okay. Adaine glanced over her shoulder at the clock on her desk: nine-thirty a.m. Between Adaine's episode and the shit show Machaira had endured yesterday, her friend would need a minimum of four more hours. Half as grateful for her four-hour sleep requirement as she was for her best friend, Adaine lowered her face into Machaira's shoulder, tilting her head to the left until her skull just touched the scout's jaw.

"I'm so lucky to have you," she whispered, planting a soft kiss right above Machaira's collarbone. Immediately, a sharp exhalation puffed by her hair, the slow breathing beneath her spiking. Adaine sat up to confirm that, yes, Machaira was still asleep. Driven by an instinct she didn't fully understand, Adaine placed another gentle but deliberate kiss on Machaira's shoulder, right at the base of her neck, which she could never have done if the rogue was awake.

"Mmhhh," Machaira sighed in her sleep, arms that had been loosely draped over Adaine's body sliding off as she shifted. Adaine's body felt suddenly heavy, core tightening with want. She had done next to nothing, Machaira had barely reacted, and the diviner was ready to go. Adaine sat up, gaze roaming over the shapely form below her. Machaira's lean frame was on full display for her, and Adaine felt a hunger that had nothing to do with food rise within her. Machaira's shirt, which was really Adaine's shirt and so much sexier for that fact, clung tightly to her larger bust, nipples visibly erect through the thin cotton. Since Adaine's clothes didn't come with hole for her tail, Machaira hadn't pulled the short shorts all the way up, and they had slipped lower in the night, giving Adaine a taunting glimpse of the distinct **V** formed by her muscular legs and torso. Adaine's eyes followed the line of her thighs as they dove down her hips, meeting somewhere just out of sight. Her hands found their way to Machaira's hips, flared beneath her waist to provide the perfect place to hold onto.

Adaine was riveted to the change in fur as it traveled down Machaira's abdomen, watching the shift from longer guard hairs over her stomach to the thinner, finer fur that disappeared beneath her shorts. Even more tantalizing was the thick white scar that curved down her stomach to her pelvis. The wizard moistened her lips and sat back, noticing two things as she did so. One, she was straddling Machaira's thigh. Two, her knee was pressed up between Machaira's legs, and it was very warm. Adaine wasn't perfect, but she could admit when she fucked up. She had her moments of weakness. And right then was one of them. Before she knew what she was doing, Adaine rocked forward, hips rolling down over Machaira's thigh, her own leg pressing up into the other girl's crotch. A wave of pleasure washed over her, so much better than her own fingers because this was Machaira. Machaira's brow furrowed with the tiniest of gasps, breasts heaving with the motion.

Regretfully, Adaine raised herself off of Machaira's leg, scooting down the bed and leaning back with her palms flat on the duvet. She knew that was wrong. She knew that she couldn't do that without Machaira's permission. But in a moment of weakness instinct had taken over, and Adaine loathed herself for it, especially since her lower body was still crying for more. But Adaine locked her legs in place, took a deep breath, and forced herself to calm the fuck down. As her sex, now cold and uncomfortable, stopped trying to run the show, Adaine lamented that last night had been such a fiasco. Everything had gotten so awkward between them that, for the second time in twenty four hours, the high elf debated just pretending that she felt nothing more than friendship for Machaira from here on out. Trying to juggle this mess of emotions was much scarier than Daybreak had been.

But even as the idea came to mind, Adaine vetoed it again. The old Adaine would have lied to herself to avoid an awkward encounter, but she couldn't do that anymore. The diviner had become a fighter. Running away from her problems was no longer an option. Besides, if Adaine did manage to successfully trick herself into thinking nothing was wrong, even at a superficial level, Machaira wouldn't do that. The poor girl had been trapped in this emotional hell hole for months now. And if anyone was worth fighting for, it was her.

Adaine was started out of her musings when Machaira whined, shifting about on the bed. Machaira shivered, fur bristling, and started to curl up. Adaine hadn't adjusted the thermostat since last night, and the room was positively frigid, especially for a tropical tabaxi. Adaine quickly dove onto the bed next to her, pulling the covers over them. The expensive sheets had cooled since Adaine sat up but rapidly warmed with the two girls ensconced beneath. Still, the damage had been done, and a fatigued Machaira keened as her eyes opened against the muted light filtering in through Adaine's curtains, sleep crusted around her lids.

"Shhh," Adaine hushed, crawling to lie partially on top on her friend. "I woke up a little early, but I'm not leaving. Go back to sleep." She stroked Machaira's cheek, petting over her ear and the side of her neck.

"Wha'…" Machaira whimpered groggily, black bags under her eyes barely visible through her facial fur.

"Shhhh, it's okay," Adaine murmured, laying her head on Machaira's shoulder. "Go back to sleep. I'll stay with you." She continued to pet her friend until Machaira's eyes fluttered closed. The scout sank back against the mound of pillows, arms weakly wrapping around Adaine's back before sleep took her. Adaine smiled, wishing she could kiss Machaira. With a sigh, Adaine realized that if she had played her cards a little better, they could have been girlfriends by now. But Machaira was whipped, and even when she did wake up properly, Adaine didn't want to just ask her right off the bat. She wanted Machaira to feel appreciated first so that she knew Adaine was serious. And after everything that had happened yesterday, Machaira deserved a day of appreciation.

The warm allure of sleepy cuddles evaporated as an idea took hold. A Machaira appreciation day was _exactly_ what Adaine needed. She'd been trying to find ways to boost her own confidence, but what she really needed was to boost Machaira's. Adaine would struggle to explain herself to Machaira no matter what, but it would be so much easier if Machaira was relaxed and happy. Once Adaine knew that Machaira was receptive to her, talking about their shared emotions would only be a little awkward instead of terrifying. She needed to plan out the perfect day for Machaira.

Obviously, the day had to start with Machaira getting a full rest, so Adaine mentally gave herself about five hours of prep time. Knowing her friend, Machaira would want to shower before anything else, which was easy enough to accommodate. Although she rarely had access to the stuff, Machaira was something of a coffee fiend and loved to load up her mug with simply sinful amounts of sugar and cream. After that… Adaine bit her lip on a smile. They could play outside. The Abernant lawn was boring but massive, providing them with plenty of space. Machaira loved to run and fight and generally be outside, and Adaine never got to play like that normally. The wizard was sure she would lose whatever game they decided on, but Machaira would get a kick out of it, and Adaine could still have fun.

Afterwards, she could ask Machaira to teach her how to cook. With her jacket, Adaine could pull ingredients out of thin air. Machaira seemed to like cooking, and it would be nice to learn. It would also show an interest in her life. After that, they could maybe play a board game. Machaira wasn't a huge board game player, but she liked them well enough. Or they could watch a movie, though nothing from her parents' collection. Maybe they could pull up something online, a comedy, or a nature documentary? Machaira was not known for watching documentaries, but she liked animals. She might enjoy one about big cats or giant saltwater crocodiles. If Machaira was still feeling energetic, they could dance again. The thought forced Adaine to repress excited wiggles. Adaine could tell the air elementals to make a pizza for dinner, gluten free but loaded with extra cheese and pepperoni for her carnivorous guest . The elf had also promised to give her friend a proper brushing, which, if applied after an evening shower and dinner, should end with snuggling. And then, after a full day of fun, Machaira-centered activities, she could sit the rogue down and finally open up to her.

Adaine liked to think that part would go smoothly, that they would admit how they felt, she'd apologize for knowing and not saying anything for months, and then they'd make out. But Adaine knew it wouldn't be that simple. They both had a lot to unpack and work through, and, though Adaine hoped they'd have to change the sheets between her confession and going to bed that night, she knew Machaira would need some time before she felt comfortable going too far. But they'd get there eventually. For the moment, she had to use her time wisely and plan for contingencies.

Backup options for activities were easy enough, but what if Machaira wanted to go home and hunt or spend some time at her camp? Adaine wouldn't fight her on it; Machaira wasn't a tame cat to be kept inside. But she could just ask her to come back before her parents returned. Machaira would be amenable as long as Adaine was respectful. What if Machaira was worried that Adaine was fetishizing her? Highly unlikely, but the diviner could abstain from touching Machaira until her worries were assuaged, even if the idea left a bad taste in her mouth for multiple reasons. What if Machaira needed time to think by herself? Again, let she'd let her go. Adaine mentally practiced for the disappointment if her friend said that so she could focus on being supportive in the real moment. What if Machaira wasn't ready for a proper relationship? Well, Adaine could start with whatever Machaira did feel she was ready for and work her way up. The scout had earned a bit of patience from her at the very least. What if her emotions had faded, and Machaira no longer felt anything for Adaine beyond friendship?

"Adaine…" Machaira breathed, voice impossibly soft and sad. The tabaxi curled inward with a whimper, arms tightening around the other girl as she slept.

"Shhhh," Adaine comforted, reach up to gently pet Machaira's luxurious mane, fingers trailing delicately over the scars on her head until Machaira stilled, a momentary purr trembling through the bed before her breathing evened out. Adaine nestled her head on the scout's shoulder with a smile, planting a feather light kiss against the scar cresting Machaira's shoulder. No, that particular fear was unfounded. Unfortunately, Adaine had work to do if she wanted her plan to succeed.

The wizard reluctantly pulled away from Machaira for the second time that day, determined that there wouldn't be a third. She quietly took out her spell book and the giant crystal ball, which was only slightly more convenient as an arcane focus than a component bag. Adaine took her time preparing the day's spells and looking into possible futures, gauging her options. She had no qualms about bending reality to make this work. Machaira stirred and moaned in her sleep if Adaine moved about too much. Each time this happened, the high elf cuddled up to Machaira and shushed her, whispering sweetly and petting her until the tabaxi stilled. After the third close call, Adaine turned down a brass dial on the wall, decreasing the windows' transparency until they were fully opaque. With her darkvision, she could still work on her spells, and Machaira seemed to sleep more deeply. When her preparations for the day had been completed, including a careful selection of her sexiest underwear for confidence purposes (to her realization that none of it was particularly sexy), Adaine slid back into bed, fiercely positive that by the end of the day, Machaira would officially be her girlfriend.

_Bzzt_. Adaine started as her crystal buzzed. That was probably Fig or Kristen, ready to start the day with a hundred texts a piece in the group chat about their pre-concert shenanigans. She should probably put it on silent. Adaine reached over toward her nightstand for her crystal, slipped, and fell on top of Machaira.

"Ooof," Machaira grunted, eyes squinting at the rude awakening. "Why is it so dark?" Adaine glanced over at clock again. Ten-thirty a.m. Much too early.

"I did that," Adaine whispered. "I wanted you to sleep longer. You don't have to get up." She protested as Machaira shifted around beneath her. "I was just putting my crystal on silent. Go back to bed. You can sleep as long as you like." Adaine grabbed her crystal and curled up against Machaira, petting her soft and slow. Machaira blinked, grumbling, but pulled Adaine to her chest, tucking the diviner's head under her jaw, tail struggling to wrap around her waist under the covers. Adaine smiled against Machaira's neck as she acquiesced to the rogue's snuggles, fingernails gently scratching behind her ear. When Adaine was certain that Machaira was properly asleep, she stretched her lips up to Machaira's cheek.

"Love you," she murmured happily. Gods, that felt so right to say out loud. Later, she'd say it properly. Adaine glanced down at her crystal. To her disgust, the text wasn't from Fig or Kristen but from her mother. Adaine was about to turn her crystal off altogether without bothering to read the message when a phrase in the preview caught her attention. Adaine unlocked her crystal and opened the text.

10:29 a.m. Mother: Adaine, your father and I will be returning to the Manor earlier than expected. He has an emergency appointment that must be seen to in Solace, so we will celebrate the Festival of Corellon in Elmville instead, if such a thing is possible. Please be ready to greet us at the door for eleven.

Adaine checked the time. Ten-fifty a.m.

Fuck.

"Wake up!" Adaine yelled, shaking Machaira. The tabaxi started, blinking blearily in the darkness and hissing, hands coming off of Adaine's body to bear freshly sharpened claws against whatever unfortunate creature had caused Adaine such alarm. When she had identified the culprit, Machaira scooted back, confused and scared. "My parents are coming NOW!" Adaine told her, heedless of how close she just came to taking a full sneak attack to the face. "You have to get out." Adaine practically pushed Machaira out of her bed, flinging her clothes at the tabaxi as Machaira collected her weapons. Machaira slammed the bathroom door shut behind her, and Adaine set about normalizing her room: removing the tint from the windows, stuffing the wood block Machaira had mauled into her closet, and brushing up Machaira's shedded fur to flush down the toilet when she came out. It was only when her friend stumbled out of the bathroom, still sore after only a short rest, and opened her window to climb out that Adaine realized how bad this must look.

"Wait." Adaine gasped, lunging forward to grab Machaira's hand. The scout turned to look back at her, one foot on the sill and other hand holding onto the window frame. "Stay if you want to." Adaine urged. "I'm not ashamed of you." She tried to explain when Machaira gave her a look of incredulous disbelief. "I, I don't want to get you in trouble. I'm scared of what will happen to you. But I'll stand up for you. You deserve better than this." Adaine tried to be persuasive, but she could tell Machaira wasn't totally convinced. The tabaxi squeezed her hand and offered Adaine a tired, frazzled smile, genuine affection glittering somewhere beneath the emotional chaos.

"I appreciate that," she said before pulling free, climbing down the wall like a gecko, and sprinting for the back wall of the manor. Adaine watched her crush disappear around the corner before admitting defeat. She quickly threw on her good clothes and brushed her hair to look semi-presentable. Adaine had just finished straightening the sheets and flushing Machaira's fur when she saw the flash of teleportation magic through her curtains. The elf took in one last breath of a warm, Machaira-scented bed before spraying her room with air freshener. Adaine collected her thoughts, straightened her clothes, and took a seat at her desk. She pulled out her spell book and a textbook, opened it to her current lessons, and waited. Sure enough, Arianwyn swept into the room before too much time had passed, frown already present.

"Adaine, I thought I asked you to meet us by the door?" Arianwyn reminded her, posing the reprimand as if it were a question. Adaine turned to look up at her, face already set in a derisive scowl.

"Why on the material plane would I meet you at the door?" She questioned coldly. "It's been one day. Did you think that I would miss you?" She turned away from her mother and resumed studying. At least she had learned the key to the Abernant sneer: you needed to scorn the thing before you so deeply that it ceased to mean anything to you. The cruelty in the expression came from an utter lack of concern instead of tangible hate. Arianwyn blinked, taken aback, and retreated, closing the door behind her. Later, Aelwyn popped in, no doubt to make some snide comment, but Adaine hit her with a Ray of Sickness before she could get a word in edgewise.

Machaira texted her once she got to camp. After asking if she was okay, the tabaxi assured Adaine that she had made the right move in waking her up and that the scout wasn't mad. But Machaira was still very tired, so she only talked for a few minutes before excusing herself to bathe and sleep. Adaine spent the rest of the super shitty holiday with her mother and sister while her father was off negotiating or something. Adaine refused to speak to the other Abernant women unless absolutely necessary and responded to their judgements with icy disregard. Aelwyn spent the entire time needling Adaine about how unnecessary she was for the celebration, which her mother neither refuted nor confirmed – at least, not vocally. But Adaine lacked both the time and the patience to bother with her family. She was already formulating a backup plan. Next week was Valentine's Day, and Adaine was determined to make that her Machaira appreciation day.

Adaine talked, laughed, and joked with her friends about the ridiculous holiday while secretly working on her valentine for Machaira all week. But when the day finally rolled around, Machaira didn't show up to school. Everyone in the party found a crude valentine in their locker, cut out of red construction paper and signed by the tabaxi. Adaine was pleased to see that hers was a little bigger, and the only one written in elvish. The characters were so well done and evenly spaced, she knew her friend had stenciled them in. But Machaira herself was nowhere to be found. When they called, Machaira said that she had slipped the valentines in their lockers the night before only to wake up with stomach cramps that morning. She assured them that she was fine and didn't need or want company before wishing them a happy Valentine's Day and hanging up. A suspicious Adaine waited until school let out to call the rogue again.

"Hey," Machaira panted, voice rough and heavy.

"Hey, so what's really going on?" Adaine asked.

"Oh, um… are the others there?" She asked quietly.

"No, it's just me," Adaine answered, more worried than suspicious now. "What's up?"

"I, um, I'm in heat," Machaira mumbled, embarrassment clear in her tone.

"Oh." Suddenly Adaine heard Machaira's voice in a whole new light. "Oh."

"Yeah, I, uh, didn't trust myself… to be at the school on, you know… today," she murmured, trying to catch her breath. "With everyone, you know… yeah."

"Oh, no I get it," Adaine said, shoulders slumping as she stared down at her valentine. "Do you, um, want some company. Maybe I could help distract you?" Adaine was only half thinking about her word choice and winced at the vaguely suggestive version of a mostly innocent offer to comfort her friend. For her part, Machaira tried, and failed miserably, to muffle a broken moan, significantly more intense than anything she'd made previously. Adaine's eyes widened, legs clamping together at the most sinful, beautiful sound of wanton desire that had ever passed Machaira's lips. Never had Adaine heard a noise so desperate or needy, especially from Machaira. Underscoring the very effeminate cry was a rumbling growl that raised goosebumps along her arms.

"No, I'm good," Machaira denied weakly, humiliation taking over. "I, uh, gotta go takecareofsomestuffbye." The call ended. Adaine set down her crystal carefully, resigning herself to another defeat. With the rest of the party occupied for the holiday, Adaine was forced to go home and endure Aelwyn's faux-concerned jibes at Adaine for spending the holiday alone again. When the diviner had successfully quarantined herself in her room, she incinerated her valentine to Machaira with a Firebolt. Shoulders slumped, Adaine opened a textbook and began to study. Well, rather she stared at the page and lamented that her stupid family had interrupted last week's three-day weekend with her tabaxi. If they hadn't, she'd probably be spending Valentine's Day with her crush-turned-girlfriend right now.

Adaine sat straight and closed her book. If her family hadn't interrupted, Adaine would probably be dating Machaira right now. Machaira, who was in heat, on Valentine's Day. Machaira, who lived in a camp alone in the woods, far away from other people. Machaira's moan echoed in her ears, vulnerable but wanting, pleading. Adaine could have heard that in person, in Machaira's bed, could have seen her face when – the wizard's brain fully short-circuited as she contemplated the perfect storm of circumstances that had fallen around her.

"Hey, I know you're alone in here, sis, so I thought – " Adaine interrupted her sister with a Ray of Sickness. Aelwyn doubled over and vomited in Adaine's doorway. Adaine didn't even care that her sister hadn't knocked. She had a much bigger bone to pick here. Angwyn didn't arrive to break up the fight until Adaine had followed up her Ray of Sickness with a Lightning Bolt and two Firebolts. For once, the rambling lecture Adaine received went in one ear and out the other. In fact, she didn't even look at her father. During the hour-long dressing down, Adaine and Aelwyn never broke eye contact.

The dynamic had shifted between them. Yes, Aelwyn was still stronger, but Adaine was catching up rapidly. And the younger wizard was no longer afraid. She'd grown in skill and confidence until she had become a notable threat. Aelwyn was looking to reestablish her dominance, and Adaine was looking to establish Aelwyn in Cravencroft. Soon, the sisters would have a final showdown.

Adaine couldn't wait.


	24. Sisterly Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sisters go to war in everyone's favorite battle and double the swear counter for the series

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for being gone this long. Shortly after I published the last chapter, I cam down with Covid-19. I was sick for months and lost my job. But, My birthday is tomorrow (the day after this is posted), and I wanted to have it done by then. I will be trying to upload semi-regularly from now on, either bi-weekly or monthly. I apologize for this delay.
> 
> However, I have already started on a 20 (minimum) chapter ficlet series to take place between the Freshman and Sophomore campaigns. I haven't watched Sophomore start yet because I don't want to be influenced by it until I finish this story. So, while I watch Sophomore Start and plan out that storyline, I will be publishing a ficlet series based on this story.
> 
> Once again, I apologize to all of you wonderful people who comment, review, and talk to me about this work. I love you all, and I hope you all have a wonderful life :). Truly, you make my day that much more special

**Chapter 12: Sisterly Showdown (+ Cool Kids, Cold Case prelude)**

"Well, that goblin woman is going to be coming by next week sometime, so I'll have to be speaking with her soon." Adaine looked up from her work. Ever since the disastrous 'Festival' of Corellon, Adaine and her parents hadn't interacted much. But every once on a while, Angwyn walked into whatever room Adaine was in and announced something as if trying to bait her into conversation. Nine times out of ten, it didn't work.

"You mean my friend's mother?" Adaine clarified pointedly. Poke an owlbear enough, and it will give you what you're asking for.

"Uummmm, yes, the goblin," Angwyn responded. Adaine frowned, leaned forward, and stared her father straight in the eye. Angwyn replied in kind, a trace of confusion crossing his features. While his statement seemed on par with his normal level of casual racism, Adaine got the strangest idea that her father was trying to connect with her.

"Mrs. Gukgak?" Angwyn pushed his lip out further. "Actually, Captain Gukgak." Adaine corrected herself for her father's benefit. If he wouldn't respect the woman, he should at least respect the title. Her father started to sigh, caught himself, and acquiesced with a huffy hand wave.

"Very well, very well, yes, yes, yes," he said, brushing aside the disagreement. "She's coming by soon."

"Good morning mummy, good morning daddy," Aelwyn interjected before Adaine could respond, turning to regard her sister with a mask of perfect charm. "Good morning, Adaine, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm so well, thank you so much for asking," Adaine responded in as close a mockery to Aelwyn's primness as she could manage. The image of a snickering Machaira only aided the neat smile that tugged her lips from their practiced pose into a real grin. Aelwyn glanced down before replying.

"Alright, listen, I meant to ask, can I borrow one of your divination books?" Aelwyn inquired, bobbing a finger toward her sister. "I have a test coming up, and I'm a little bit fuzzy on some of my divinatory practices." Aelwyn shivered her fingers to emphasize how tiny the amount of fuzziness was, but Adaine smelled blood in the water. The younger Abernant took her time to answer, blinking slowly and drawing in a small breath in the high-society fashion of insulting surprise.

"Divination?" Adaine repeated. "I thought you were good at everything?"

"I'm focusing on abjuration, but, ah, there are elements of abjurative magic and divinatory magic that are not complimentary, so I'm just a little fuzzy on some of the basics." Aelwyn elaborated, speech slowing and eyes narrowing as Adaine tilted her head in faux disbelief. "Can I borrow a book, or do you want to rake me over the coals some more?"

"You can borrow a book, absolutely," Adaine responded at once, blinking slowly and smiling at her sister. "I don't need it. I've already read them; thank you." Aelwyn closed her eyes and touched her upper lip with her tongue. Adaine silently reveled at her victory. It was so much more satisfying to give Aelwyn what she wanted here because it forced her sister to acknowledge that Adaine was better at something.

"Very well, Adaine," Aelwyn chirped, a little less perky as she swallowed her pride and let herself upstairs.

"I can show you, if you like." Adaine preened a bit further. "It's very easy, at least for me." Aelwyn didn't rise to the needling, maintaining her composure as she disappeared up the stairs and into Adaine's room.

"These two library books, they're wildly overdue," Aelwyn called out a minute later. Adaine stepped over to the foot of the stairs as her sister leaned out of her room, holding aloft the books Adaine had checked out _on the second day of school_. She'd never gotten around to reading them. Adaine could feel the anxious frown pulling at her lips.

"Ahhhh," Adaine's attempt at defending herself couldn't quite come together, mouth forming an **O** as anxiety swelled, thin chest beginning to constrict. _That's a problem we can fix_, Machaira's voice echoed in her head. The books were a temporary problem. She was the best wizard in her grade. This was manageable. With a quick huff, the younger wizard swallowed the attack before it could get properly underway. "Oops." She finished instead. Aelwyn's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, picking up on Adaine's improved self–control.

"Alright, I'm just going to borrow these ones, thank you," Aelwyn half–sang quickly, waving the overdue books and turning to make off with them.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Adaine stopped her. "Borrow the ones that aren't library books."

"Alright, here." Aelwyn passed the library books over and took Adaine's home textbooks instead, quick–walking back to her room as a testament to just how nervous she was about her upcoming test. Adaine reveled in her moment of superiority for a bit before barring herself in her room to crack into the dusty books. She wasn't sure if they would still be relevant to her anymore, but she couldn't hang onto books this overdue and not read them. She started with _Aeons of Solace_, the history book.

From this, she gathered that Solace used to be a human monarchy whose royal family was connected by blood and marriage to the royal family of Highcourt, their southern neighbor. However, Solace was conquered some centuries ago by Kalvaxus, the Emperor of the Red Wastes, a being so mighty that the fearsome Nightmare King and Lords of the Necromikron were mere pawns before him. Kalvaxus laid waste to Solace, leaving the monarchy in shambles. However, Alexandria the twelfth of the House of Tilering, Queen of Solace and sole surviving member of the royal family, gathered her strongest allies and defeated Kalvaxus in combat. Solace was liberated, the monarchy disbanded, and the first Council of Chosen was formed. The elven oracle, Eleminthindriel promised Alexandria that she would return if ever there was trouble, beginning the relationship between Fallinel and Solace in earnest. Some of this Adaine had already learned from Hudol history lessons, so she wasn't terribly bothered until she found a painting of the first Council of Chosen. Standing behind Eleminthindriel was a young, handsome wizard labeled: secretary and paramour to the oracle, Arthur Aguefort.

"How old was professor Aguefort?" Adaine wondered aloud. She pushed the history book aside and cracked open Aguefort's biography. She remembered that the librarian had deemed it 'spicy'. She understood why. It was much harder to get through than the history book had been. She could feel her cheeks redden more than a few times. Every once in a while, a little voice in the back of her head whispered that she could try that with Machaira, or she pictured the tabaxi's sly grin after reading a passage, and the blush deepened. Even without Aguefort's lurid sexual details, the biography was not a helpful book. The ex-principal didn't use dates and only mentioned people by their first name, so it was more of a memoir than any sort of helpful historical account.

That being said, hidden among weird jokes and descriptions of Mass Polymorph orgies, Aguefort described the creation and use of unique and powerful spells. Adaine took notes with an excitement for magic that she hadn't felt in years, especially when she got to Aguefort's section on divination. One passage in particular stood out: "The strongest of all divination, of course, is the art of prophecy. You know what they have to say about prophecy, chuck 'em in the bin, ha ha ha (this is not a joke)." Adaine frowned. Who phonetically spelled out how the reader should laugh only to tell them that what they read wasn't a joke?

"You should chuck prophecies in the bin…?" Adaine murmured. Had they had a prophecy? Well, there was the oracle that died in the boat, but that had nothing to do with her party, right? And besides, Aguefort wasn't writing just for her. So why was she so focused on that line? Did Principal Aguefort hide prophecies in his bin? Adaine grappled with the idea for the rest of the evening. Briefly, she considered calling Machaira. It seemed unlikely that there would be anything left in Aguefort's bin after all these months, but she would need a rogue's help if she wanted to check for herself. Besides, Machaira was her best friend, and Adaine wanted to talk to someone about her findings. But if she called Machaira, the scout would want to know if there was anything else in Aguefort's memoir. A heavy blush heated Adaine's face at the thought. In the end, she decided that breaking into the principal's office to search a trash bin that had been available to the faculty and the police for months wasn't a risk they could afford to take when they'd had zero sign of a prophecy or any real reason to seek out such a portent.

Still, there was nothing wrong with taking some more notes on Aguefort's magic descriptions. And maybe a few more discreet notes on some of the, ah, other parts. _Machaira did say that she liked to be on top…_ Adaine squirmed with nervous energy at the thought, carefully rereading the passage as the image of her crush sprawled across the page.

"**Not Mr. Seacaster – CAPTAIN Seacaster as well!" Bill Seacaster correcting Mr. Hughes on how to address Fabian**

"Mommy, Daddy, I am so sorry. I have to skip dinner today. I'm out with a friend doing a little bit of studying. These finals are coming up, and I'm worried I won't get a perfect score. So, I must away, I'm afraid." Aelwyn rushed out as respectfully as their classical Fallinel education allowed, hands clasped in front of her chest. It was about a week after Adaine read the library books, Aelwyn had entered stress mode. Stress mode for Aelwyn consisted of annoying attention to etiquette and dangerous levels of prim and proper.

"I've gotten perfect scores on all of my tests." Adaine interjected with a smirk. Sisterly suspicion, like everything else, had to take a backseat to one–upping Aelwyn. The bitch in question immediately turned on Adaine with a frown barely concealed under a mask of curiosity.

"What's that, disemboweling a gremlin?" She inquired airily. Adaine held a straight face for a solid half second before pointing a Ray of Sickness at Aelwyn, barely restraining giggles at how quickly they could come to exchanging spells. Unfortunately, Aelwyn managed to resist the spell, but she didn't manage to keep her good manners.

"Alright, that is _quite_ enough, thank you," Aelwyn exclaimed, flat palm smacking the dinner table. Adaine actually let a titter slip through, supremely pleased with herself. The front door clicked and swung inward, revealing one Penelope Everpetal. Adaine's amusement evaporated, features creasing in confusion.

"Penelope!" Aelwyn greeted, striding gracefully toward the Aguefort Queen.

"Oh my god, your house is so cute," the sorceress said in lieu of hello. The girls exchanged kisses on the cheek before Aelwyn turned back to their parents, who were barely paying attention to any of this.

"Tata!"

"Why are you studying with somebody from my school?" Adaine demanded quietly as Aelwyn made to leave. "You hate my school." Penelope looked over at Adaine as if the younger girl had said something dumb and slightly obscene.

"Um, because I'm a great sorceress?" Penelope reminded her. Adaine let her gaze flit to Penelope for only a moment before refocusing on her quarry.

"Why are you studying with a sorceress? You're a wizard." The diviner was proud of how stable her voice was and prouder still that she had gained so much confidence since her last conversation with Penelope.

"Eheheh, maybe when you're a little older, you'll learn," Aelwyn drawled, eyes half–narrowed in a haughty attempt at superiority. She fluttered her fingers in the way Adaine always did at a defeated opponent, and righteous sibling fury blazed through Adaine's veins. "Tata!"

"I think she's sneaking out," Adaine yelled back at her parents.

"Aelwyn sneaking out?" Arianwyn repeated, looking up with a frown as if the notion was a radical new idea. "Never, she's a good girl." As their mother returned her attention to the papers in front of her, Adaine's expression fell into a loathsome deadpan that would have scared off a Harvestman. At that precise moment, the doorbell rang again, and Angwyn reopened the door to for Detective Gukgak and Gilear. Adaine had to swallow a bark of dismayed laughter as Gilear approached her father.

"Hello, Mr. Abernant, my name is Gilear Faeth." The balding elf introduced himself breathily, gaze slightly unfocused. _This is not what I meant when I said bring an elf_, Adaine thought, leaning back from the conversation, eyes wide and mouth stretched in a panicked grin. Angwyn's expression narrowed somewhat. There was no way this would end well.

"Oh, a wood elf, very well, take a seat at the breakfast nook," he gestured toward the breakfast nook as Arianwyn packed up her work.

"Yes, I've come to accompany as sort of an elven intermediary as Detective Gukgak's questions concern some matters of culture." Gilear began with promise. "By the way, do you have any food here? I didn't manage to eat before I got here." Adaine reformed the aloof face that she was expected to wear but felt her mouth begin to pull at the corners. Detective Gukgak glanced up at Gilear, perhaps rethinking her decision, before focusing on Angwyn.

"Yeah, we just had a couple of questions." The goblin took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and slowly released a sigh of resignation. "Um. This is sort of, um, something I wanted to talk about. Uh, as quickly as possible, my case is actually probably going to be shut down by the end of the week." Adaine's mask broke with wide–eyed surprise once more. "But we just have some sort of follow up questions for you as this thing sort of moves over to the council." Sklonda briefly discussed Daybreak's scheme before summarizing the tea, palimpsests, Zayn Darkshadow, the association with DJ Brainz, Daybreak's assault on Biz Glitterdew, and the murder of Zayn, all but the last of which was information her father would have already known if he had ever take the time to pay attention to his second daughter. It was at about this point, when the diviner stood poised to possibly hear some new information, that Angwyn finally registered the pale shadow of his child in the corner.

"Adaine, why don't you run along upstairs?" He commanded with a shooing motion. Adaine turned, quietly left the room, and cast Clairvoyance before the door to her room had finished closing. She placed the sensor tucked into a ceiling corner on the other side of the wall from the breakfast nook under the assumption that her parents could see into the ethereal plane.

"So the main thing we're trying to understand is, first of all," Sklonda opened, flipping through the police file. "We're tryna to understand is, first of all, the conjuration of that corn monster shouldn't have been able to happen. Uh, there's a ward against that. There's a book in the restricted section of the library that is enchanted to prevent conjuration. _Watches and Wards_ should have prevented that conjuration from occurring."

"Well, I certainly don't know anything about Aguefort's defensive capabilities," her father stated. "However, if what you're saying is true, that there was an attack on the girl, an attempted attack on Kristen Applebees, that would have been an act of perditional contradoxy."

"Yeah, well, starting an apocalypse," the detective dismissed.

"Well, that's debatable, whether it would have started an apocalypse," Angwyn countered. "That's a religious theory that may or may not be true. Gods like to claim that apocalypses are happening because it revs up interest in the faith. You tell people that something's always going to be available, there's not an urgency on it. So, you have sort of, you know, eschatology for people to come get excited about the world ending, and the world's not going to end. Em, perditional contradoxy is an element of the treaty between Solace and Highcourt. Em, when Solace came under the jurisdiction of the Council of Chosen, much of the human clergy was left in Solace, in what was a semi–theocratic state. Part of Highcourt not going to war with the fledgling nation was built into the treaty, which is that the soul of any chosen of the Sun God would never occur on Solision soil." Adaine frowned, pretty sure her father had dropped a verb somewhere in there. "An act of peritional contradoxy would countermand that treaty and likely insight a war."

"Huh." Detective Gukgak, apparently a woman of few words, scratched down a note before abruptly shifting topic. "And do you know anything about the death of the elven oracle?"

"N–no, I can't say I do," Angwyn replied, surprise managing to find its way past his expressionless tone. "Uh, I know that _The Cerulean_ went down and she was aboard. Terrible tragedy." Detective Gukgak sighed.

"Yeah, my husband was an operative of the state department when he was alive, um, and, uh, was assigned to that, uh, so sorry, that you don't know anything more." The goblin murmured, voice trailing away as she took a moment to compose herself. "Thanks for your time." The detective stood and left with Gilear in tow. Adaine dropped her Clairvoyance spell and inhaled deeply.

"Oh god," she breathed. Riz hadn't volunteered any information on his father yet. When asked about a picture on their wall, Sklonda had quietly told the party that Pok Gukgak had died some years ago, but Riz remained quiet. Clearly the younger goblin didn't want to discuss the topic, but she had to tell Riz about this as soon as possible. Steeling herself, the elf ran back to her room and logged onto the weird religious messaging service. Prayer Chain. Right, so her bookmark for the URL wasn't great for remembering the actual name, but she didn't think her parents could monitor its chat room and doubted they would care that she had accessed the site.

6:28 p.m. Adaine Abernant: Guys, some shit just went down, and I think I, like, maybe remember the case that we were doing and we forgot about, but it's still happening? There is stuff happening, and I think that it's, oh my god, we need to meet up right now.

6:29 p.m. Adaine Abernant: Let's go get ice cream.

As Adaine locked her room, preparing to go meet her friends, she noticed that the door to Aelwyn's room was ajar. Immediately prioritizing this unique opportunity, Adaine slipped into enemy territory as quietly as she could. Once the door closed behind her, however, Adaine tossed the place. The first thing she found was a bunch of spell books under some loose papers. The top book had been opened to the Modify Memory spell. Adaine's hand hovered over the books for a moment before she turned and dove into Aelwyn's closet. If she was going to find any good dirt on her sister, it wasn't going to be out in the open. Sure enough, in the back of the closet, Adaine found a small wooden model of a ship inscribed with the name _The Harpy_. Surrounding the model were evocation storm runes. What was the name of the oracle's ship? _The Cerulean_. This was a different ship then. Even so, how many ways could this possibly be interpreted that didn't involve her sister conjuring a storm to sink a ship?

"I knew she was bad," Adaine exclaimed aloud, a grin of vindication stretching from cheek to cheek. As horrible as all of this was in the grander sense of things, it made her next course of action deliciously clear. At that moment, her crystal started buzzing like crazy. At first Adaine thought that her party was responding to her Prayer Chain invite through their group text. While her party did in fact send her a good half–dozen messages, so did a bunch of the weird Hudol boys Adaine had forgotten to block. She never really wanted to see any of them again, even if they had provided good practice for standing up to guys like Biz. But right now, the creepy Hudol boys were much less important to her than the scores of pictures they and her party were shooting her of a scantily–dressed Aelwyn making out with Fabian. For a moment, she merely stared, mouth open, stunned. The sororal hatred that normally simmered under her skin began to burn.

"Oh my god," she breathed. "I'm gonna fucking kill everybody." Then more texts began to stream in with new pictures: Machaira dragging Aelwyn by the neck; Machaira holding her sister against the wall; Machaira, curled lips hovering over Aelwyn as she pinned older elf down. Adaine found herself glued to the images. In all of them, Machaira was the picture of savage dominance, fangs bared and claw tips slipping from their sheaths, every line of her body poised to display power over the other girl. Now, if that was the end of it, Adaine would have been all kinds of flush at the idea of having this primal image of feminine power pin her against the wall. Domination wasn't normally her thing, but this brought to mind flustering passages in Aguefort's memoir and some of her more recent fantasies. However, Adaine was saved from such thoughts by the rage that surged up her throat at Aelwyn's grin of aroused amusement, at once sensual and condescending. Voice choked by fury, Adaine stared at the image, trembling, until a text from Riz snapped her back to proper awareness.

6:45 p.m. The Ball: Can you come over to Ostentatia's party? These guys are creepy, your sister summoned weird girls, Fabian wants to make out with your sister, Machaira wants to kill your sister, Aelwyn wants to fuck (?) both of them and kill me, and I'm not having fun in high school anymore.

6:45 p.m. The Ball: :(

These texts were followed with yet more pictures of Machaira choking Aelwyn and Aelwyn making out with Fabian. Adaine saved and opened the latter image in her gallery and rushed downstairs to show her parents the picture of her sister at a fucking party before charging out of the house.

"Well, that could have been doctored," Angwyn called out as the front door slammed shut behind her, as if she needed another reason to hate her parents. Adaine barreled down the street at speeds only barbarian–style anger could achieve. What the FUCK was happening at that party?

"**You wanna make out?" – Kristen upon realizing that the girl she is talking to isn't actually humanoid**

Machaira didn't have high hopes for this party. True, Ostentatia Wallace was hosting, but the Hudol bloodrush team was sponsoring it as a celebration for their first ever sporting victory… because Aguefort had to forfeit when Coach Daybreak died. But the only Aguefort bloodrush players actually coming to the party were the ones in her adventuring group, the group that had killed Daybreak and enabled their victory in the first place, which was also the only group of non bloodrush–players invited and the _only_ Aguefort students besides Ostentatia herself in attendance; and, as the confusing cherry on this irrational sundae, the party was taking place months after Hudol's victory had been declared… none of which made sense to her. But nobody else questioned the situation, so Machaira assumed that she was being stupid again and that she would just embarrass herself if she said anything, _again_.

Gods, she'd made such an ass of herself during the sleepover with Adaine. The memory still made her fur crawl a full three weeks later. Machaira had been so torn between wanting to spend time with her friend and wanting to hide her secret and wanting Adaine period that she'd practically tripped over her own tail every time she opened her mouth. But Adaine had been so happy to finally have Machaira over without her family getting in the way that the high elf had actually put up with her nonsense. The poor diviner had clearly never thought she'd be able to have Machaira sleepover, or anyone else for that matter. Adaine had been leaping at any opportunity to make her feel welcome, almost desperate for Machaira to stay. There were a few times when Machaira even thought that the wizard might, just _might_, return her feelings. But each little instance of hope had been almost immediately extinguished as the universe reminded the scout just how small and silly she really was.

By the end of the night, sharing a bed with Adaine had been too daunting a prospect, and Machaira had curled up at the foot of the bed like the cowardly cub she was. But then Adaine had her nightmare, and no amount of awkward shame could stop the rogue from being there for her. At first, the other girl's pleas for her to stay had sparked the familiar mix of righteous anger and protective concern for the young wizard. But, as Adaine cried herself to sleep on Machaira's chest, the tabaxi wondered if maybe the high elf wasn't just afraid of being alone, but if she was specifically begging Machaira to stay, if she mattered to Adaine, perhaps not romantically but still more deeply than as a mere friend. She wondered if, in the aftermath of her family's abandonment, Adaine had committed herself to Machaira in some more significant way. For a few beautiful minutes, the scout had allowed herself to consider that maybe Adaine would never love her the way Machaira wished she did, but that Adaine could at least accept her, scars and all. Either way, when Machaira drifted off, Adaine peacefully pillowed on her chest, at least one dream of hers had come true.

One dream too good to be true.

Machaira understood why she was forced out of Abernant Manor so suddenly, and she knew that Adaine hadn't wanted to hurt her. But she couldn't shake the whispers that told her Adaine was embarrassed of her. And, when she looked in the stream that morning, Machaira didn't blame her. So the rogue took those feelings and shoved them aside to deal with later when her friends weren't around to worry about her. Hearing Adaine joke about how dumb Valentine's Day was hurt a lot more than it should have considering that Machaira had never placed much stock in the holiday herself. The scout knew better than to be around her crush during her heat cycle on Valentine's Day, but she couldn't resist leaving something behind for her friends. When her heat cycle finally hit, it had been torture. The only thing her subconscious wanted to focus on had been the one thing she desperately didn't want to think about. Then Adaine called and offered to come over, and Machaira broke completely.

Machaira didn't want to be attracted to her best friend. She didn't want to feel this way about Adaine. But she couldn't control how she felt any more than she could control her body. Her fantasies had been vague and rough, undetailed and hedonistic imaginings of her crush. But whenever her mind slowed down and focused on what Machaira ACTUALLY wanted to do with Adaine, every slow kiss and nip, each gentle caress and nuzzle, the myriad of soft, contented sounds Machaira _knew_ she could draw from those small elven lips… the thoughts were intoxicating, pregnant with desire and caustic to consider. Machaira couldn't remember having a heat cycle by herself where she came so frequently or cried quite so much. At the end of two days (it had been a quicker cycle, thank Bast), she'd been a mess. As Machaira looked around her camp, old blankets stained with cum and blood from where she had accidentally scratched herself – for the first time in years, mind – and cheeks wet with tears, the rogue bitterly compared it to Adaine's clean, welcoming bed. Machaira didn't need help at loathing her own animalistic nature, but sometimes the universe gave her help anyway. The universe even reinforced her new low opinion when, upon returning to school from her "virus", Fig and Kristen had friends Valentines waiting for Machaira but Adaine didn't. Sometimes it was the little things that drove a point home.

All in all, Machaira half–hoped Adaine didn't come to the party. Maybe she could just forget everything for a few hours. As she focused on Ostentatia's address, 69420 Spell Channel Lane, about two blocks down the street from Abernant Manor, Machaira fixed a smile on her face and took comfort from the bolstering presence of her friends.

"Hello, my name is Percival Nevillesvine," introduced a skinny, buck–toothed high elf boy with a bad slouch and a worse lisp.

"Hi," Gorgug greeted cheerily.

"Hello," Percival responded. "I'm the quarterback for the Hudol Hellions." Fig, face drawn into a bewildered grimace, was already shaking her head 'no'.

"He's the quarterback?" Gorgug parroted, frowning at the party.

"Welcome to my house party," Percival continued with a small gesture, which confused Machaira even more because she could have sworn that this was Ostentatia's house.

"Hello, comrade, ha ha," Fabian laughed, slapping his leg with a grin. Apparently, he didn't want to be outdone as the most antiquated speaker in the room.

"Ah, very well, from one athlete to another, so sorry about the loss of your coach, aha," the 'quarterback' offered with a wet smile that made Machaira's insides shrivel.

"Yeah, well I killed him myself," Fabian boasted amid awkward giggles from the rest of the party.

"Well, bully for you," Percival amended. Fabian bellowed out a hearty pirate laugh as his new friend turned to address the group at large. "There are some tables with beer pong set up in the backyard. There is a cake of black base and a pool with which you may feel free to jump in. Perhaps we will skinny dip later." He finished with a laugh, eyes rolling over to Fig. Machaira officially lost hope for the party. The rest of her friends voiced the sentiment with uneasy groans and murmurs. As they stepped inside, it became rapidly apparent that the only people there were equally weird–looking Hudol dudes, all elven, and all older than they were.

"You know what, maybe I won't go skinny–dipping," Fig muttered to Gorgug under her breath, beginning to fiddle with a lock of hair as she slipped closer to the half-orc. Machaira was about to suggest they leave when a latecomer strode through the door, the first woman to arrive outside of their party. A flimsy, gossamer peach shirt was unbuttoned down to her midriff where the lower half of the garment was tied off. Her denim short-shorts did wonders for her perfect ass and long, elegant legs. Partially braided blonde hair bounced as she swept inside without so much as a hello and beelined toward Percival. Despite her new attire, Machaira instantly recognized the figure. Shock kept the rogue from attacking long enough for others to notice Aelwyn's arrival.

"Ah, you're here," Percival exclaimed. Without breaking stride, Aelwyn Abernant grabbed a bottle of liquor and smashed it over the boy's head, hands already forming a cantrip to pull a swallow of spilled booze out of the air and into her mouth.

"Mmm." Aelwyn smashed her fist onto a table. "I came here to fuck!"

"Oh my god, hell yeah!" Fig cheered as Riz, Kristen, and Gorgug had a furious, whispered discussion to confirm that this was definitely Adaine's sister and not just a look-alike.

"Party is getting started," Aelwyn cried, snapping her fingers with a flourishing whip. _BAM!_ A bunch of Aguefort cheerleaders appeared on either side of her, classically attractive women with flowing hair and glowing eyes. Fabian whooped and clapped. Percival sat up, nose bleeding over a goofy smile.

"Wonderful, wonderful," he cried thickly, giving Aelwyn a vigorous golf clap. "The party has started." Kristen stared ahead, eyes bugging out of her 'thirsty duck face' as Fig had termed it. The cleric pinched her leg until it bled, and a powerful reek of arousal and corn rolled out from her. A similar but more masculine scent came off of Fabian. But it was Riz that had the misfortune of receiving Aelwyn's attention.

"You're a funny little man," the high elf told him, eyes narrowed in a way that clearly said the goblin was beneath her. "You ever played knifey fingers?"

"Uh, that sounds terrifying," Riz admitted.

"What are you, a little cunt?" Aelwyn demanded.

"Oo, I love you," Fabian burst, grinning and clapping for this devil in whore's clothing. Aelwyn immediately zeroed in on Fabian, walked over, grabbed the back of his head, and planted a kiss on his mouth. Fabian kissed her right back while Fig cheered him on. Aelwyn fully dipped Fabian, ripped his shirt down, pulled out a bag of dragon spice, and snorted a line off of Fabian's chest.

"WOO!" She screamed before pushing her new boy toy aside. "Alright, this is a Hudol party, so I'm going to set the rules. First of all, one person invisible at all times. If you manage to stab them, they have to drink. Let's DO THIS!" The wizard bellowed, clapping loudly.

"You aren't – "

"That's the only rule?" Gorgug asked.

"You aren't Adaine's sister, are you?" Fig finished.

"Oh, you're one of Adaine's little friends," Aelwyn concluded, rounding on Fig with an evil grin.

"Wait, are you Adaine's sister?" Fabian exclaimed, smiling with way too much enthusiasm.

"Aelwyn Abernant, in the flesh," the older girl preened. The party screamed as one.

"Oh, you just kissed Adaine's sister," Kristen exclaimed.

"Fuck yes!" Fabian cheered.

"You can't do that to a friend," Kristen objected amid raucous laughter.

"Oh, lighten up, Kristen," Machaira finally spoke up, collecting her voice into a low rumble. "It's his first skank." Everyone gasped, huge eyes flitting between Machaira and Aelwyn.

"Okay, I mean, that, you know, that was a little uncalled for," Fabian protested.

"I mean, can _you_ really call anyone else a – ow," Kristen broke off as Riz bounced up to elbow her in the side.

"Oh, that's right, your Adaine's little pet," Aelwyn hummed, eyes narrowed over a dangerous grin. "Fur isn't normally my kink, but let me get a few shots down and we'll see what a short little dyke can do for a _real _woman. I even have a collar for you in the trunk." Machaira strode forward, shoving Fabian out of her path. Her friends were all shouting over each other to try and tell her _no_, but the tabaxi didn't care. She grabbed Aelwyn by the throat, dragged her across the room, and slammed her into the wall, pushing thw wizard down toward the floor until her head was beneath Machaira's. Most rogues elected for expertise training in sleight of hand or deception; Machaira had opted for athletics. She put that training to good use as she tightened her hold on Aelwyn's windpipe, preventing the wizard from speaking without completely suffocating her. With her left hand, Machaira grabbed Aelwyn's right wrist and pinned that to the wall too.

"Be careful how wide you spread your legs," Machaira snarled, bringing her lips to Aelwyn's temple. "Because someone might just fuck you right up your bleached asshole." She tightened her grip slightly, claws sliding out just enough to prick the elf's skin. When Machaira relaxed her hold, Aelwyn looked far too pleased for comfort.

"Oh, kinky," she ground out around the tabaxi's fist. "I can see why Adaine keeps you around. Want to find out if we taste the same?" For a flicker of a second, Machaira's claws twitched over Aelwyn's pulse. This girl was every temptation from the rogue's old life rolled into one. Aside from a few superficial facial features, the elder Abernant was the polar opposite of her crush. The tabaxi reluctantly removed her hand from Aelwyn's bruised neck, wishing she had an excuse to let out a little frustration on her, maybe get some revenge for Adaine.

"I don't eat cheap shit," Machaira growled, tossing a bottle of harsh vodka at the high elf. She turned around and walked off, shoulders tensed as her friends whooped after her, muscles primed for some kind of retaliation, almost hoping the wizard gave her a reason to attack. Fortunately, Aelwyn seemed to have other priorities. The moment Machaira rounded the corner away from Aelwyn, she whipped out her crystal, fingers fumbling to text Adaine as quickly as possible.

6:42 p.m. Machaira Mekhit: Your sister is here, she's crazy, S.O.S., help!

The tabaxi took a deep breath and ran a hand over her scars. She could hear Fig and Gorgug begin to play in the back. This was their first gig together. She had a sneaking suspicion that it would be a bloody opening for their band's career. As awkward as Machaira felt about Adaine right now, the diviner was still her best friend. She had to tell her about this. But there was no way the Abernant sisters wouldn't start fighting once Adaine arrived. Machaira needed to have a plan before then. The scout secluded herself in the foyer and tried to think for a minute. She had full confidence that their party combined could take down Aelwyn no problem. But those cheerleaders were summoned, and that was an unknown Machaira wasn't sure how to deal with.

"Hi, I'm Emily." As if sensing that Machaira was thinking about them, one of the cheerleaders appeared in front of her.

"Hey," Machaira greeted the brown-haired 'human', ears going flat against her skull as she backed away. "Uh, look, I'm waiting for a friend."

"Tell me more about that." Emily demanded perkily, all but bouncing in her tight uniform. Machaira glanced over the cheerleader's shoulder to see others like her draped over the nerdy… wizard athletes. No matter what the Hudol boys (and Kristen) said or did, the cheerleaders laughed along and kissed them.

"No thanks," Machaira declined. "Why don't you go make out with someone?"

"Aww, you're cute." Emily told Machaira before backing her into an end table. The rogue found herself pushed against the furniture by the deceptively powerful woman. Emily grabbed her in an iron embrace and forced her tongue into Machaira's mouth. The tabaxi, already beginning to crack under the emotional strain, felt frayed nerves snap. This went beyond her loyalty to Adaine, her ingrained memories of abuse, or even this cheerleader's possibly deadly nature. Machaira was scared and confused and tired and she just didn't know what to do anymore. Her fight or flight instinct practically exploded, and she drew her legs up between them, kicking Emily into the next room.

"GET OFF OF ME!" Machaira roared just before the front door to her right opened with a bang like an arquebus.

"Where the fuck is she?"

"**Am I my own dad?" – Gorgug, enough said**

"Where the fuck is she?" Adaine demanded without preamble, just in time to see Machaira look over to her wildly, fur puffed, ears flat, pupils dilated, and bushy tail trembling around her ankles. Adaine had heard her friend scream from the front porch and wasted no time in rushing over to her. Off to the side, a stunning woman stuffed into a tiny cheerleader costume was picking herself up off the floor, the front of her bra dusted with fur and bare midriff stamped with a boot print. Based on the cornered look in Machaira's eyes, Adaine had a pretty good idea what had just happened.

"Why hello there," a rail–thin Hudol nerd approached her.

"Uh, you're cute," the Aguefort model gushed. "Tell me more about that."

"She's a conjuration," Machaira hissed, hand on the pommel of her saber. "Back away." The tabaxi led Adaine into an adjoining room before the wizard could vaporize that unnamed bitch and shuddered, gaze half on Adaine and half on something that existed only in her head. For a moment, sympathy swept aside Adaine's fury. Poor Machaira looked dreadful. In her desire to be Machaira's girlfriend, the diviner had put her crush through a decent bit of stress, and the rogue seemed to have had some kind of panic attack of her own. Adaine bit her lip.

"Hey." Machaira's attention flicked more fully to Adaine as the high elf spoke up. "I need you to help me kill my sister." She would set things right with Machaira after her sister was dead.

"Okay." The scout's response was immediate. "I'm with you." _You always are_, Adaine thought as Machaira shook herself vigorously, mane fluffing and tail twitching in anticipation of a fight.

"Did Aelwyn do anything to you?"

"She made a few unflattering remarks," Machaira replied drily. "A lot of standard furry–fetish shit. Her conjured cheerleader, uh, was, um, a little too, ah, handsy for comfort." Machaira shrugged, eyes flitting toward the floor. "Nothing new, and nothing serious though." She huffed, shook herself one last time, fixated on Adaine, and smirked. "Sorry, I'm being stupid. Let's kill that bitch." _Aelwyn first, scritches second, heart–felt confession third_, Adaine mentally declared.

"Good, you're here," Riz whispered, apparating next to the girls. "We need to find Aelwyn, fast." Adaine held out her hand and called the lines of time and fate to serve her. A residual, magical image of Aelwyn appeared going up the staircase. Adaine took off in pursuit, both rogues at her heels. Riz loaded his arquebus, and Machaira gripped her blade, predatory focus driving back emotional turmoil. Adaine followed the echo of her sister up to a locked door at the top of the staircase, behind which Ostentatia's and Aelwyn's muffled voices drifted. All three freshmen quieted down and listened.

"Listen, it's just a little bit of divinatory magic," Aelwyn was saying. "Don't be a square, Ostentatia."

"Okay, I just don't know this Hudol stuff super well, and…" The dwarf's voice trailed off. "I don't know, can't you just take my word for it?"

"I would love to be able to take your word for it, but we just want to make sure." Adaine frowned. She could hear an incantation from the other side of the door, but she couldn't identify it. Cold trickles ran down her spine as Adaine concluded that the spell was probably Aelwyn's unique creation. "Oh goody, you were telling the truth. Goodbye, Ostentatia." Adaine fired a Ray of Frost at the door and kicked it down. Machaira and Riz circled around her, weapons drawn and trained on Aelwyn, who stood in the middle of Ostentatia's bedroom with a crystal palimpsest in her hand.

"You fucking bitch!" Adaine accused, hands raised toward the other wizard, too late to stop Ostentatia from being sucked into the palimpsest. Adaine swung out with a punch, barely missing her sister. Aelwyn backed a few paces deeper into the room, scowling at Adaine. Riz raced into the room and ducked past Aelwyn toward the window, trying to prevent the abjuration wizard from hitting all of them with the same spell. The elder Abernant swung, and a mercury blade shimmered into existence in her left hand, slicing through Riz's cheek. The goblin winced and ducked behind the bed, eyes wide. The detective gulped and shifted back uneasily as swirls of arcane energy began to stem and crack from the older girl. Riz popped a shot at Aelwyn, but a circling miasma of runic patterns ate the bullet that should have blown through her head. While the bullet damaged the runes, they didn't fully dissipate. Adaine's sister smirked and raised her hands to cast a spell only to drop concentration as a blur of scales and fur bulled into her.

"Oh, this will be sweet," Machaira snarled, rocketing forward with a slash for Aelwyn's neck. Once again, abjuration runes spiraled into place to protect her, but Machaira's saber shattered half of them into silver mist. The tabaxi lashed out with her off hand and tore a few more away with her claws for good measure, mane fluffed as she circled to stand behind Aelwyn. "I wonder how disappointed mummy and daddy will be when your little sister kicks your ass?" The scout taunted, saber tip weaving through the space between them as the smaller girl searched for any weakness in her defense.

Affection for the rugged rogue surged underneath the euphoria of finally having an excuse to put her sister down for good. Adaine raised her hands to cast Dispel Magic on the abjuration wizard, but Aelwyn was faster. Her sister shot a Fire Bolt at Riz, forcing the goblin to twist out of the bulk of the attack. A small explosion blackened Riz's corner of the room. Aelwyn smirked at Adaine, took a small, silvery pocket watch out of her pocket, clicked it, then flipped her the bird before twisting her hand through the air and vanishing in a puff of mist. Adaine had just enough time to mutter a swear before the world shivered around her. Adaine's balance didn't shift, but the walls of the house vibrated for a second before coming to rest. A bird hung suspended in midair outside the window, wings dragging like the pixels of a laggy, low–resolution video set to one–percent of its normal speed.

Well… fuck.

The sounds of battle began to filter in from outside, the confused voices of her friends mingled with vapid giggling and weapon strikes. A ghostly light flickered up from the first floor. The music faltered then swelled into a sick power chord. People shouted, and fires roared. But Adaine only had one target in mind. She tried to recall the motions Aelwyn had made with her hand. If she had to guess… Misty Step. Aelwyn was only thirty feet away. Machaira was staring around, mouth slightly agape and eyes huge as she tried to process the time slow around them. Riz shuffled back a pace, hands clutched around his arquebus, narrowed eyes darting around the room.

"She's teleporting," Adaine warned, fingers already weaving the arcane patterns of a Blink spell. "She could turn up back anywhere in this room. You should fucking hide."

"We got to find her," Riz grumbled.

"Yeah, we got to find her," Adaine agreed.

"That's the easy part," Machaira assured them, eyes flashing and mane fluffed with excitement, seemingly much happier now that they had a proper fight on their hands. The scout swirled her saber point in a tiny circle and took a step toward the window before mist billowed out on either side of Adaine as she entered the ethereal plane and peered into multi–dimensional reality. Her parents could say whatever they wanted, but Adaine had done a damn good job on her spell–casting homework this year. Adaine peered through the gauzy, glassy version of Ostentatia's house. Coils of mist rose and fell at impossible angles, and the figures on the material plane appeared as vague outlines through the translucent, permeable layers of the building. Adaine scrambled about the house, sticking her head through the floor, walls, and ceilings as she searched for her sister.

"Where are you, bitch?" Adaine stage–whispered, kneeling on the upstairs floor to poke her head upside down into the main foyer.

"Your sister's out here," Riz called, voice muffled by the barrier between worlds. "I don't know where you went. You wizards are tricky."

"We broke her shield thingy," Machaira added. "She's bleeding and poisoned now."

"Yeah, rogues," Adaine cheered from beyond the veil of the spirit realm. "Fuck her up!" Aelwyn almost immediately appeared on the ethereal plane, wide eyes locking with Adaine's giddy smirk. Blood ran from a scrape on her head and a long gash down her arm, the edges of which were a deep green in color. Adaine clasped her palm over her fist, rested her chin on her hands, and smiled as prettily as she could.

"What the fuck?" Aelwyn shrilled. Adaine flipped her two birds. "Oh, that's fucking bullshit." Aelwyn scowled as she returned the gestures, air of decorum gone in the face of her predicament. "Oh, fuck you. Hell – "

"I'm going to tell on you so bad," Adaine gloated. "You're going to be grounded forever."

"Uh, not if I kill you and your friends first," Aelwyn retorted.

"Fuck you, you bitch, I'm gonna kill you so bad." Adaine grinned viciously, eyes narrowed with evil glee. "I've wanted to do this my entire life."

"You're not going to get to," Aelwyn sneered, reapplying her refined mask. "A sad ending to a sad chapter to a very sad – "

"Mm-mi-me-mi-sad chapter-mi-me-m – " Adaine mocked squeakily, flapping her fingers in a puppet mouth at her sister.

"Fuck you," Aelwyn snapped. "You thought that was cool? How do you – "

"So cool, so cool," Adaine squealed back, eyes screwed up like a crying baby before she pulled back and smirked down her nose at her sister. Gods above, this was therapeutic. From somewhere on the prime material plane, a sweet, sensual base chord reverberated. Adaine knew it was Fig, but some part of her felt like it was an omen of good things to come once she had killed Aelwyn. With that, Adaine Blinked back to the house, willing herself ten feet toward the window. The diviner stumbled a bit, grabbing onto the window frame for balance. Her head dipped out the broken pane to see Machaira and Riz flanking a fire elemental in an Aguefort cheerleader costume. Both rogues were burned but standing and glanced up as she appeared.

"Guys, I'm sorry, but at least you're fast," Adaine quickly yelled down. She began to run through the motions of a Web spell when she noticed a few problems: number one, the fire elemental would burn the webs; number two, she had to manipulate the webs through the window of the house to get its full effect. Trusting that her friends would forgive her, Adaine carefully centered her spell between the rogues to catch Aelwyn when her sister reappeared. Adaine poured energy into her spell, feeling her concentration slip as fires raged and her friends shouted in the background. The high elf clenched her fist, and blue chains tore through the air around her, snaking down into the arcane equations of her spell. Adaine bent fate to her will, finally understanding why she had visions of exploding spider webs that morning, and forced her Web spell to break through the window and fill the living room beyond. A part of her felt guilty for using all of her portents on herself, but this was personal.

"Where's your sister going to pop up?" Riz asked.

"Right where you're standing," Adaine called down. "Anywhere within ten feet."

"Cool," the goblin answered. Both rogues disengaged from the elemental in a whirl of blades, Machaira climbing in through the downstairs window while Riz turned toward the front door. Adaine popped back into the ethereal plane and had only a split second to exchange middle fingers with Aelwyn before her sister blinked out of existence.

"Oh fuck," her sister's voice echoed up from the prime material plane.

"Ahahahaaaa," Adaine cackled. She stuck her hands down through the ceiling to shove another two middle fingers at Aelwyn even though her sister wouldn't be able to see it.

"I know you're fucking watching, you little bitch," Aelwyn's shouts resonated back. "I fucking hate you. Always taking my things, you're such a piece of, you're so annoying – OOOWWWW! You furry cunt!"

"Hey, look at that, I caught a bitch," Machaira growled happily. "I wonder – rroooww!" Aelwyn popped back into the ethereal plane about ten feet below Adaine. "Get back here so I can kill you!" Machaira yowled, voice distorted by the veil between worlds. Aelwyn scowled at Adaine, breathing heavily as she clutched a deep stab wound in her side, blood pushing through her fingers.

"Well, at least when your Web gets burned up by my elemental, I won't be there to feel it, but your kitty will." The abjuration expert tittered, lips clenched tightly in anger and pain. Adaine arched her eyebrows over her neatest, most perfect smile.

"I. Am going. To kill you." She promised, voice clear and quiet.

"Well, we'll just have to see about that," Aelwyn disputed airily. "This wouldn't be the first time you've… failed a test." Her sister's expression was innocent, voice soft as quilt. In the real world, her friends cried out in pain and anger. Elementals laughed and burned. Machaira howled. A bunch of people started chanting something, 'drunk her', or maybe 'Dunkirk'? The roar of a familiar engine joined the din. Adaine's body shock with the urge to punch Aelwyn in the face. Adaine popped back just in time to hear Kristen yelling.

"Adaine, come down to us."

"I'm not," she shouted back. "I'm going to fucking kill my sister."

"Where is your sister?" Gorgug asked.

"She's gonna come and get me," Adaine hollered back, moving to stand in the doorway to Ostentatia's room. Ultimately, her friends and the elementals were tangential to the real showdown between sisters. The Blink spell tried to tug her back to the ethereal plane, but Adaine resisted it. The younger wizard stepped to the side of the doorway and readied a Dispel Magic for when Aelwyn dropped in on her. Adaine had passed her Spell Sniper test months ago, but she was certain that Aelwyn was a stupid little bitch who never planned for this kind of fighting. Their parents had taught them to only respect theoretical mastery of magic; Adaine found it a wonderfully ironic weakness to seize upon. As she prepared the spell, fingers drawing out on the final somatic motions of the spell, her mind crystallized into perfect, deadly concentration. Here, surrounded by her friends and on the verge of achieving her most fevered dream, no panic attack could touch her, no doubt enter her mind. Her breathing slowed to an easy rhythm, freed from fear or anxiety.

Riz scrambled up the wall and through the window, quickly joined by Machaira. Riz seemed to be mostly okay, aside from the cut on his cheek and a burn mark on his chest. Machaira, however, was a little more roughed up. Flames danced across her shoulders, torso, and head, filling the air with the smell of burning fur and flesh. The tabaxi huffed, shaking a chunk of charred skin off the back of her neck, saber in hand, yellow eyes reflecting the firelight over a grin of savage joy, prowling toward Adaine like a herald of Avernus. They noticed Adaine preparing her spell and slipped out in the hall to join her. Riz tightened his grip on his arquebus, eyes darting around as he backed into the bathroom behind her. Machaira smiled at Adaine as she loaded a bolt into her crossbow and crouched down, hiding behind the doorframe next to Adaine. Her battle lust didn't lessen, but affection tempered her amber gaze for a moment as the rogues readied themselves.

Aelwyn _poofed_ into existence right where Adaine knew she would, head snapping in every direction to try and find Adaine. The younger wizard released her spell, firing a beam of blue energy that struck her sister squarely. The Blink spell fell away in a cloud of sparkling mist, but Adaine could sense something else, something more powerful on her. Adaine tried to concentrate and force more energy through the spell, but she had already freed the magic and was too surprised to dispel the second, stronger enchantment. Riz fired and missed, bullet punching into the wall behind Aelwyn. Fortunately, as Aelwyn turned to glare at them, she didn't see Machaira. The bolt sunk into Aelwyn's shoulder, punching into her scapula with an audible crunch.

"Aaaahhh," she cried, stumbling and grasping the bolt.

"Woo," Machaira cheered quietly, re–clipping her crossbow to her belt, tail waving above her head.

"We gon' get blasted, Adaine," Riz predicted from behind her.

"I don't give a fuck," Adaine informed him, mentally cycling through her spells. "I'm gonna kill her. And if she kills me, so be it. She will be in so much trouble."

"Got to have your priorities," Machaira agreed with a smile, picking up her saber again. Gods, Adaine loved this girl.

"You little fuck," Aelwyn growled, holding out her hands toward Adaine, palms extended and wrists touching. An immense Cone of Cold erupted down the hallway. Adaine had just enough time to erect a partial shield against the icy energy, but it still tore the breath from her lungs, skin burning and muscles tightening painfully as the temperature plummeted. Machaira slipped back into the corner and twisted her head aside. The cold whipped across her jacket, ripping at her face and extinguishing the flames that burned across her chest. The scout shivered, sneezed, and coughed up a wad of blood.

"I'm-m-m-m, o-ok-k-kay," she chattered, stumbling as she tried to stand. Behind them, something hit the ground with a limp thud. Adaine's normal concern for her friends was bound by anger. She'd probably feel bad about that later, but right now she wanted to end this bitch.

"Woo-aaarrrhhg." Adaine turned to face the sound as Gorgug jumped and through the second story window behind her, Kristen tucked under his arm. The barbarian was breathing heavily, covered in blood, earth, and glass shards. The cleric was surrounded by a cloud of kung-fu ghosts wearing tweed jackets with patched elbows.

"Yes, well–argued," one asserted.

"A point for reason," another agreed.

"The consolation of Boethius shall be your demise," cried a third.

"What is happening?" Gorgug inquired, voice quaking slightly as he crouched into a defensive position.

"I'm going to kill my sister!" Adaine declared emphatically. This wasn't a threat or a hyperbole. Corellon be damned, Adaine was going to watch the light die from Aelwyn's eyes.

"How did she stop time?" Gorgug asked.

"I don't fucking know," Adaine shouted. "Just kill her."

"So, did she have something?" The half-orc pressed.

"Oh, she has a watch," Adaine remembered. "She has a clock." An elemental cheerleader burst in through the open window, perky grin distorted by flickering necrotic shadows. A spectral philosopher swirled in front of the cheerleader as it bore down on Kristen.

"Of the many virtues there are, none is greater than love." He whispered. The philosopher tore open his chest, and his heart shot out like a cannonball, sending the elemental wheeling. The elemental didn't bleed, but its incorporeal form flickered, edges growing ragged, darkness pooling off and dissipating in uneven chunks. Unsteady, it tottered about amid Kristen's Spirit Guardians and clumsily swung out for the cleric twice, dark hands missing horribly both times as it swayed.

"Uh, what's more important, saving Riz or holding Aelwyn in place?" Kristen asked.

"HOW DOES SHE CAST HER SPELLS?" Fig queried from outside. Gorgug cocked his head toward Adaine.

"Like a little bitch." Adaine replied evenly, unflinching gaze trained on Aelwyn even as ice cracked off of her brow.

"Mmmhhhh," Machaira exhaled heavily, biting her lip and quickly looking away from the diviner. Oh, live or die, this was a beautiful day all around. Kristen ducked into the bathroom and touched Riz's shoulder. Divine light pulsed from her fingers, and Riz sat up with a gasp, limbs uncurling from their frozen positions, frostbite receding across his body. Kristen's wounds also sealed a bit, and the confused lesbian grinned as she did what she did best.

"Um, can I talk to you for a second?" A vapid voice giggled before wind howled outside, whipping around the yard. Everyone fighting upstairs was momentarily distracted as Fig popped up with a yell in the window behind Aelwyn and fell back out of sight.

"Still standing," the tiefling hollered from outside.

"No regrets," Adaine encouraged the bard. Another sexy chord rose out of sight from Fig's bass

"Actually, can I talk to you," Fig requested in her best 'girly' voice.

"Uh, yeah, you're cute," the elemental gushed.

"Um, I really need you to steal Aelwyn's little time piece," Fig suggested, maintaining her giggly tone.

"Oh my god, awww, what, you're cute, tell me more about that," the cheerleader babbled.

"Are you malfunctioning?" Fig inquired, real laughter brimming up from beneath her fake joy. Something banged and scraped against the front of the house. The rest of the party snickered as a burning Fig clawed her way up to the bedroom window behind Aelwyn, nails cracking and bleeding. The tiefling forced her way through the window to flip off a very confused Aelwyn.

"What the fuck?" The older Abernant wondered aloud, momentarily overwhelmed by the chaos that was Adaine's party.

"Give her a hug," Adaine called out. Fig grinned and propped herself on the window sill with her elbows, arms shuddering from the strain as she reached out for Aelwyn with a flaming hand. _FFWWOOSSHHH_. Fig _eeped_ as a fire elemental flew around the house to hover behind her. The elemental swung out twice, somehow unable to hit the flailing bard half–hanging out of a window.

"Sister, why have you forsaken me?" Fig rebuked it, affecting a hurt, serious tone. "We of the flames must stick together."

"Are you singing 'Sister Move It Down'?" Kristen asked, trying to peer around Gorgug and Adaine as another fiery cheerleader roared up the stairs behind the her. In her efforts to duck around the others and get a bead on Fig, the human managed to dodge both attacks.

"Um, you're cute," the cheerleader tittered.

"I, um…" Kristen winced and looked down at her feet, expression torn between awkwardness and arousal. A spiritual philosopher with tiny spectacles and a balding head interceded for the indecisive girl.

"The unexamined life… is about to end!" He punched the elemental across the jaw, sending a cloud of ash and flames down the stairs. Suddenly a mechanical roar washed over the house, building in volume and intensity by the nanosecond.

"SEACASTOOOOR!" Fabian shouted at the top of his lungs as something, probably the Hangman, crashed through the front door, shaking the house to its foundation. For a moment, Fabian's war cry and the Hangman's engine drowned every other sound and brought the battle to a lull, elementals and adventurers alike freezing in place. The walls bowed and rattled as the Hangman tore down the central hallway beneath them, smashing aside furniture and no doubt leaving terrible skid marks on the floor. Glass shattered with a definite crash, the Hangman's thunderous charge audibly bouncing over the porch and finally splashing in the pool. For a moment, there was silence save for the crackle of flames. "Where is everyone?" Fabian demanded distantly. True to form, the remaining six of them took time out of the battle to yell over each other at their friend.

"We uh, we're at the window – "

"We're up here."

"Come upstairs."

"We're at the window."

"We're up here."

"We're on the second floor."

"It's crazy, where have you been?"

"I almost died. Fig's almost dead."

"He's fine."

"Most of the elementals are still alive."

"Get up here and kick some ass."

"Most of us are still alive, too."

"Why did you run? Were you scared?"

"I did not run," Fabian shouted back.

"You looked scared, Fabian."

"I was not scared," he insisted loudly, Hangman bubbling noisily as it tried to drive itself out of the pool. "I was not scared. I mean, uh, the Hangman… had some business." _Thump. _The fire elemental behind Fig staggered in midair as a bolt struck it in the back of the head. The flaming cheerleader turned to gaze at Fabian with a deep, inhuman sucking sound. In the split second during which Aelwyn was distracted by Fabian, Adaine cast Mage Hand to try and steal Aelwyn's fucking time–slowing watch. Unfortunately, her Mage Hand only pawed feebly at Aelwyn's pocket. The elder wizard turned, sneered, and Counterspelled, sending Adaine's own Mage Hand to grab her hair and slam her face into the doorjamb. Adaine's nose cracked against the metal, blood already beginning to trickle down her face and drip onto her shirt.

"Ooh, a little bit of telekinesis," Aelwyn exclaimed. "I didn't realize that we were back in grade school."

"I'm down," Fabian cried imperiously from the pool below. Adaine grimaced. She hoped that the Hangman would be able and loyal enough to drag Fabian to their healer before he drowned. Riz murmured a thanks to Kristen and poked his head out of the bathroom. The familiar crack of the arquebus rang in the tight space, and Adaine could feel the hot path of the bullet race past her face. Aelwyn's ward had begun to regenerate, shattering when the bullet struck home but absorbing enough of the impact that Aelwyn received only a small abrasion on her cheek.

"I'm getting very tired of you," Aelwyn ground out through clenched teeth.

"We should spread out so we don't all get hit by the same spells," Riz yelled to the group. The shadow elemental took a swing at Riz, but the nimble goblin ducked past and hid deeper in the bathroom. Machaira had the opposite idea, darting around the corner with her saber drawn and lunging for Aelwyn. With a single, quick thrust the tabaxi imbedded her blade up to the hilt in Aelwyn's stomach. The older wizard gasped, bloody spittle splattering across Machaira's muzzle, blue eyes wide and staring. Machaira twisted her saber and snarled lowly with feral satisfaction. For a moment, Adaine thought her sister was down. Then Aelwyn's gaze flickered and refocused on Machaira's.

"Fuck… you," Aelwyn ground out, fingers twisting spell energy into an arcane rune. Adaine had just enough time to recognize that it was a homebrew creation of her sister's before Machaira stiffened. The scout took a staggering half–pace backward and sunk to her knees. Red mist floated up from the rogue and into Aelwyn, who moaned as the mist seeped into her wound, partially healing her injury and reforming a thin, silvery layer of her defensive ward. Aelwyn looked over to Adaine and shrugged, grinning as she spun a new series of symbols.

"It's not much, but every little bit helps… and hurts," she finished, flicking a Fire Bolt at Adaine's face. Flames filled her vision, melting her skin, boiling her eyes, and searing across her skull. Adaine was distantly aware of her own scream before pain overran her senses, tearing through her mind like the worst panic attack of all time. The world faded to black in a haze of heat and the reek of her own cooking flesh. Suddenly brilliant, radiant light filled her vision, and Adaine awoke with a gasp, Kristen clasping either side of her face. Divine energy pulsed into Adaine's head, fulling reversing the damage caused by Aelwyn's cantrip. Gorgug, the shadow elemental, and the fire elemental behind Fig were nowhere to be seen.

"Bless you, my child," Adaine half–groaned and half–teased as she sat up, clutching her head.

"Roof," Kristen responded. "She's gonna be up on the roof." Adaine, still panting after being pulled from the brink of death, watched Kristen, surrounded by heavenly philosophers, make a heroic leap out of the window sill and up toward the roof only to hang from the edge of the gutter. Her legs churned, kicking uselessly against the side of the house, tie-dyed shirt riding up to expose her belly button as she flailed about, grunting and whining. The air elemental whirled up from the ground toward the roof. Feet stomped above them, a muffled scuffle resonating through the ceiling.

As Adaine stood and gathered herself to pursue her sister, she caught sight of a bundle of scales and fur lying face down on the floor. A pool of blood slowly spread from beneath the ravaged body. The scarred muzzle was turned away from Adaine at an odd angle, but the thick, bushy tail tip twitched just the tiniest amount. Ever so slowly, the tabaxi pulled her hand across the floor, claws gouging weakly at the hardwood. She coughed hoarsely, fingers flexing instinctively around her saber. Her tail kinked more sharply as Machaira, teetering on the edge of consciousness, forced herself to stand with a low growl. Adaine sucked in a harsh lungful of smoky air, a grin of relief spreading across her face. They weren't done for yet.

"I got Fabian," Fig called, struggling to work her bass up over the window sill as she stared behind her, wobbling precariously on her perch. The bard played a quick, thrumming melody, waited a minute, and whooped. Fig grinned triumphantly back into the house and noticed Machaira. "Shit. Stay put, girl, we got this." The tiefling pulled a foot up to the window, started to stand up on the sill, and noticed something below her. "Fuck you, you slimy bitch." A coil of infernal magic reverberated within Fig's voice, but evidently the spell didn't take because the musician scowled and muttered a curse under her breath. Fig pulled herself the rest of the way the window and leapt up. Just like Kristen, Fig only succeeded in dangling from the gutter with her feet kicking against the window pane and whined. "Eh, eh, eehhhh, I can't do nothing." Gorgug bellowed from somewhere outside, and the roar of fire elementals flared. Another incorporeal professor rushed up to the elemental cheerleader on the stairs.

"Epistemology is the study of how we know what we think we know," he shouted at double speed, cocking back a fist and sending another spray of cinders down the stairwell.

"Wow, helpful," Kristen called from her dangle. She let go of the roof with one hand to try and slip a pencil from her pocket but accidently dropped it instead. The fire elemental rushed forward, and Adaine instinctively flinched, covering her face with her arms. Instead, the cheerleader charged Kristen and punched her in the stomach, leaving a black and red mark on her exposed belly and igniting her camp shirt. The cleric flinched but maintained her hold on the gutter. The elemental raised its arm to strike again when a horrible series of screeches tore through the air. _BA-BA-BUM-BA-BUM-BA-BUMP_. Fabian rocketed up the stairs on the Hangman, shouting a war cry as he went. The elemental turned to face him, darkening the floor as it moved. Adaine took a moment to pity the unemployed dwarf who owned this house. Ostentatia's father had given everything to his daughter only for her to be poisoned, then trapped inside a palimpsest while teenagers destroyed his home. The only consolation for her conscience was that they were trying to save his daughter.

With that in mind, Adaine reluctantly admitted that she had no choice but to attempt to climb onto the roof. She rolled up her sleeves, knowing that she did not have the skills for this, and leapt past the fire elemental out the window.

"You can do it," Kristen grunted as Adaine climbed over her. "Your sister is a piece of shit." The wizard reached up to the gutter, pushing off of Kristen's shoulder. Her fingertips found the edge of the shingles, and she strained, desperately trying to employ muscles that she had neglected her entire life. Her elbows bent inward, and Adaine's eyes just cleared the edge of the roof before her quivering arms gave out. The elf sagged against the house with a small, embarrassing noise of complaint, legs dangling uselessly next to Kristen. The diviner huffed, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to Blink into the ethereal plane, but only succeeded in releasing a small, quiet fart. Below her, Gorgug was wrestling with a fiery cheerleader, meaty hands clenched where the throat would be on a real person as he pinned her down. But a slime elemental was oozing its way over, dripping fingers outstretched towards the berserker.

From inside the house, Riz wormed his way out of the toilet and ran out of the bathroom, feet slapping wetly on the hardwood. The inquisitor mumbled an apology as he clambered over the girls, working his way up to the edge of the roof and dampening Kristen and Adaine both in the process. Adaine strained again, managing to just rest her chin and forearms on the rough shingles before her body collapsed, face hot as she gasped for air. Before her, Aelwyn was wrestling with the air elemental. The windy cheerleader, which seemed to be trying to frisk her sister, had a hazy red light hanging around its face that Adaine recognized as Fig's handiwork. Unfortunately, Aelwyn seemed to be keeping her elemental at bay for the moment. Riz leveled the barrel of his arquebus over the edge of the roof, took aim, and fired. Aelwyn's ward shattered, but the wizard herself remained unharmed. Aelwyn's head snapped over toward Riz, glaring daggers.

"Whoop," Riz gulped, ducking back over the edge of the roof. Adaine remained even as her grip began to slip. She scowled, air tearing at her throat and arms burning with effort. Aelwyn started to raise a hand toward Riz when Machaira appeared on her right side, claws gouging into the roof. The tabaxi's head hung, crimson seeping around her teeth and oozing out of her stomach. Distant flames cast eerie, dancing shadows across her features, framing a blazing, predatory gaze. The tabaxi took one step, then another, boots dragging as she staggered across the roof toward Aelwyn. The rogue drew her saber, and the wyverns on her scabbard glowed with green light. The sword made a harsh, saurian scream as it was pulled from its sheath, yellow venom dripping off of the edge. Machaira growled and lunged for Aelwyn, only for the older girl to step aside, letting the blade slip harmlessly past. The scout's head turned to glare at the older wizard and met her scornful blue gaze squarely. Instead of disengaging or hiding or running, Machaira stepped forward and lashed out with her off hand, unsheathed claws gleaming as they sank into Aelwyn's throat.

For a moment, the two stood there, motionless. Machaira tore her hand from Aelwyn's neck, ripping a chunk of flesh with it. Blood gushed from the wound, instantly soaking Aelwyn's peach top so that it clung to her chest in a macabre parody of her sexual charm. In that moment, Adaine smiled like she had never smiled before. Then Aelwyn glanced up at Machaira, unsteady fingers forming the same pattern they had the last time the rogue struck her. The wizard flicked the symbol at Machaira, and it dissipated against her sternum. Machaira coughed, frowning, as her throat split open. The blood that poured from the wound evaporated into a mist and drifted toward Aelwyn, seeping into her own wound and partially sealing it. Aelwyn's protective ward flickered to life around her, and Adaine's bitch of a sister sucked in a deep lungful of air, skin pallor darkening from chalk-white to her normal shade of pale. Aelwyn straightened, grinning as Machaira fell backward and slid halfway down the roof toward Adaine before friction halted her, saber clattering from her grasp, jaws struggling weakly in a faltering effort to speak. As Adaine watched, even that little bit of movement stopped, and Machaira's head slowly bent with the pull of gravity to lie still across the shingles, tail dangling limply alongside her.

"Well, that was annoying," Aelwyn commented lightly, firing at Lightning Bolt at Riz. The goblin managed to twist aside, and the spell only glanced off of him, adding the smell of ozone to the air. Kristen flinched and yelped as the bolt went just over her head, but Adaine didn't react. In that moment, the elemental wrested the stopwatch from Aelwyn's grasp. The older woman struggled to take it back but couldn't overcome her conjuration's strength or the arcane force of Fig's Suggestion.

Adaine was distantly aware of Gorgug below her as he pushed the elemental cheerleaders aside and stomped toward the chimney. The fire elemental smashed her arm against his back, engulfing the half-orc in flame. Gorgug staggered, managing to evade a strike from the slime cheerleader in the process. His flesh and bone hands gouged chunks of brick from the chimney, tearing up to the roof in a fit of berserker fury. He swiped the stopwatch from the cheerleader's grip as if she were a baby and clicked the button. _FWOOOMP_! Time reset, the environment around them now moving according to the laws of physics as it should. Fire and water mingled in a cacophony of splashing and burning. The Hudol kids began to shift about and talk all at once.

"I say, it's a regular rumble!" One nerd shouted. Magic glowed from a dozen different sources as these uncool wizards prepared to do the one thing they were good at.

"Oh my god, click the watch again," Adaine called out, eyes tearing away from Machaira in panic. Gorgug was staring around wildly, scrambling to figure out his next move. Kristen tried to heave herself up onto the roof, slipped, and crashed back down onto the brick patio.

"Fabian, wait up," the cleric hollered, scrambling to her feet and running inside, staff banging against the dented patio doorframe in the process. Great, now their healer was even further away from Machaira. The air elemental turned on Gorgug, striking him twice across the face with the miniature whirlwinds that made up her fists. Fig strummed another Healing Word as the tiefling abandoned her window position, noisily clopping through the warzone that was once Ostentatia's bedroom.

"Axiology is the study of value pertaining to both aesthetics and ethics," someone, probably a guardian professor, cried from inside, quickly followed by a flare of light and ash from below. A giggle echoed out, two more bursts of light, and Fabian shouted as the cheerleader fought back. The second fire elemental flew up to the roof and slapped Gorgug across the back of the head. Flames burst over his fhead, and the half-orc fell, crumpling over the apex of the roof.

"You know nothing of the flame!" The Hangman spat. The engine revved, and a fiery cheerleader was flung out the window as Fabian rammed it with his motorcycle, creating a comet that streaked across the neighborhood.

"Oh my," the Hudol boys exclaimed.

"Members of the Hudol Academy," Fabian cried out. "There is a matter of great consequence happening upon the roof of this building. I ask that you turn all of your attention to the roof of this house!"

"A request humbly and eloquently made, and one to be answered," responded a voice that was vaguely familiar to Adaine. Percival whatisname, maybe? She didn't really care. Fabian might have been the most fightery fighter to ever fighter, but he spoke these nerds' language so well that they all cast Fly and launched themselves into the air, offering to help with as many overly proper turns of phrase as they could muster. Two of them rushed over and hoisted Adaine up by her armpits.

"I say, good show."

"There we are, fit as a fiddle."

"Thank you, flying Hudol students." Adaine almost laughed at their silliness despite herself, light-headed with this shift in fortune.

"Hellions!" One warbled in a poor attempt at a war cry. Adaine's levity evaporated at the sight of her friends spread out on the roof, burning and unconscious at Aelwyn's feet. For the first time in her life, Adaine understood why a barbarian's rage was so powerful. It wasn't just about anger. The emotion that sprang from Adaine defied every tenet of logic she had built her life around, burning away the anxiety and exhaustion that should have made her presence here impossible. When Adaine locked eyes with her bitch of a sister, everything about the situation – the years of abuse that Aelwyn had subjected her to, her constant sensation of being trapped in her own family, her helplessness to save her friends, her love for Machaira and Gorgug – all boiled together. It wasn't just rage, but no humanoid could ever properly express that tangle of emotions. Adaine remembered the last time she was overcome with this level of emotional chaos and had brained Doreen in the cafeteria. Channeling that memory, the young high elf ran at her sister and punched her across the jaw.

"Fuck you bitch," Adaine shouted, fist glancing over Aelwyn's ward. The silver runes flickered, motes of light cracking away at Adaine's measly attack. It was the weakest thing she could have done, far weaker than a punch from either of her friends passed out on the roof below her. But both of them would have told Adaine that it was a good punch anyway, and that made her even madder. Right then she didn't give a fuck about magic; she only wanted to hurt her sister. For her part, Aelwyn was more bewildered than injured.

"What are you, fucking insane?" Her sister demanded, hands going to her temples.

"I, uhg – yes, I'm fucking insane," Adaine retorted, stomping one foot. "You make me fucking insane!" Adaine locked eyes with her sister and saw that, for once, Aelwyn was the one who was overwhelmed and scared. The Abernants maintained eye contact even when Adaine Blinked into the ethereal plane, each knowing that their fight had nowhere else to go. Her vision of the battlefield was now overlaid with monochromatic mists, but the only thing Adaine needed to see was right in front of her. The sisters were so intent on each other that neither flinched as Riz once again shot at Aelwyn and missed. Aelwyn, breathing heavy and ragged, didn't even look as she blasted the inquisitor with another Lightning Bolt. Riz yelped and fell from his perch, hitting the brick below with a limp thump.

"Hudol students, aid that man," Fabian commanded.

"The Ball?" Percival echoed.

"Yes, The Ball, oh, yes, The Ball!" Fabian gleefully repeated himself. "Word's gotten around." Adaine might find that funny later, but Aelwyn had just dropped a third friend of hers.

"Right, up you go there," a Hudol boy declared. Shoes dully impacted the roof, and Kristen's philosopher ghosts swarmed over Aelwyn and her elementals.

"Get up, Gorgug," Kristen instructed, hand already glowing with healing energy. The spell pumped into Gorgug's heart like a magical defibrillator, and the half-orc sat up, blinking around the battlefield, eyes still darkened with rage. Kristen snatched the stop watch, clipped it to her fake dog tags, and slipped it under her shirt. The cleric shot Aelwyn one of her confused, over-eager sexual grins from the corner of her eye. Behind them, another air elemental and water elemental reemerged and swarmed back into the fray. The air elemental on the roof lashed out at Gorgug, catching him once in the chest and a second time between the eyes. The barbarian staggered and grunted but remained conscious, lip pulled down to expose more of his tusks. A spiritual tutor charged the swirling cheerleader, but its voice was drowned by the elemental's maelstrom.

"Come on, pull now," a Hudol boy groaned, trying to lift Fig up to the roof. The rascally musician strained until she turned purple but could only manage to get her head over the edge of the gable. Fig grinned and struck a screaming note on her bass and blew up most of the right side of the roof. Adaine had to cover her face from debris, but Aelwyn and her elemental took the spell's full force. The conjuration was obliterated and dispersed into wind, cheerleader costume blowing away in the resulting gale. Aelwyn was left standing, but her ward was Shattered. Adaine's sister gasped and staggered, blood bubbling up from the wounds Riz and Machaira had left and dark bruises spreading across her body from Fig's Shatter spell. A drow ghost in a cheap suit and puffy tie cocked back a fist and punched straight through a fire elemental's chest.

"It is the discourse that matters," he cried, throwing his hands in the air as the cheerleader crumbled and died. "By discussing these issues, we come to a greater understanding of not necessarily the truth but of ourselves within the truth." Kristen dropped her staff and fumbled in her pockets for another pencil.

"Hahaaa," Fabian shouted, bounding up to the roof and tackling Aelwyn at a dead sprint. As they hit the roof, Aelwyn tangled her legs with Fabian. With their heads so close together, the younger girl wasn't sure if Fabian was trying to restrain her sister or if they were making out or what, but she definitely didn't feel great watching this unfold.

"Gross." She announced flatly, recalling the pictures that had flooded her crystal less than an hour ago.

"Stay down, stay down," Fabian hissed at her, trying to get a better hold on Aelwyn's wrists.

"Not right now," Aelwyn rebuked him.

"No, I'm not trying to do that," Fabian denied, blushing as his leg pressed between hers. "Just give up." Stone–faced, Adaine Blinked back into existence and held out her hand to cast Tasha's Hideous Laughter on her sister. She reached into Aelwyn's mind, feeling her will connect with her sister's for but a moment before the enchantment broke through.

"Fuck you, bitch," the diviner gloated as her spell took hold. "Yeah, you laugh bitch. You fucking laugh, bitch." The older wizard sneered at her.

"Ahahaha, are you casting – you're casting Tasha's Hideous – Hideous Laughter?" Aelwyn cackled. Adaine grinned, flipped two middle fingers, and slowly nodded her head. "Tha-a-a-at spell woul-wouldn't work on me in a – in a mi-i-ill-i-i-ion fucking ye-e-e – ahhaha, uhahaha." Aelwyn was crying now, denial and desperation madly fighting against the slow onslaught of humiliation. "It's such a stupid spell. You-ou cast, hah it on me, ahaha, o-on your fi-first day-ay-ay, and th-then I-I…" Adaine nodded along happily. "Aheyhey, Aheheh, Ehaha, Ahaha – "

"Oh my god, Hudol boys," Adaine shouted, jabbing a thumb at her sister as she lay helpless. "Can you believe that she fell to Tasha's Hideous Laughter?" Personally, Adaine thought it was a neat little first level fallback, but she knew from experience how terrible Hudol's arrogant humiliation treatment could be. All of the weird Hudol boys descended to the roof, still hovering slightly from their various levitation spells, faces drawing into disgusted winces.

"Oh my," Percival exclaimed. "A first level spell, tch-tch-tch-tch-tcha. No, that won't do at all." He tutted down at the laughing, sobbing Aelwyn before looking to Adaine. The diviner crossed her arms and smirked as all of the Hudol students turned to face her. "Who are you to be able to subject Aelwyn Abernant to a simple, elementary enchantment?"

"Adaine Abernant, how do you do?" She declared proudly. Instantly the Hudol boys scrambled to introduce themselves to her.

"My name is Percival."

"My name's Hector."

"My name's Walter, hello!"

"Hi, very nice to meet you."

"Well that's rather remarkable."

Adaine lapped up the praise as Aelwyn howled under Fabian, struggling against the spell and her new boy toy to break free and save face. With a whirl of power, all of the elemental cheerleaders evaporated around them. Adaine's smile stretched so wide it hurt, and a few tears trickled down her cheek. She had finally, _finally_ bested her sister.

"It's not funny at all." Aelwyn began to claw at her hair.

"It's pretty funny," Adaine corrected her.

"No-o-o…"

"Pretty funny. Guess what else is funny." Adaine reached into Aelwyn's pocket and held up the palimpsest.

"No-o-o," Aelwyn sobbed as Fig forced her hands behind her back. The tiefling hummed a heavy metal tune as she tied Aelwyn up with spare amp chords.

"Oops, bitch," Adaine crowed, pulling off one shoe so that she could stuff her sock in Aelwyn's mouth. She silently memorized this moment so that she could re-watch it when she tranced tonight and every other night for the rest of her immortal life.

"Oh shit, Riz!" Fig yelled, jumping up and running to look over the edge of the roof. The bard played two Healing Word songs in rapid succession. "You okay?"

"Yes, thank you," the goblin confirmed from somewhere in the yard below them.

"Everyone else good?" Fig asked. Gorgug needed a little pick-me-up, but the others all seemed to be okay for the moment. "Alright, that's Riz, Kristen, Adaine, Fabian, and Gorgug. Machaira, you good?" Fires crackled and Hudol boys prattled, but no exotic mew or pained grunt sounded. "Machaira?" Adaine remembered at the same time Fig did. "Machaira!" They turned, stumbling over shingles to where the tabaxi had slid, head and one arm lolling over the edge of the gable. Fig played another song of Healing Word, but the rogue didn't react.

"Kristen, get over here," Fabian shouted. Their cleric started and jogged to where the other girls were hauling Machaira further up the roof, Spirit Guardians fading around her. The human channeled whatever divine force she had been communing with lately and placed a hand wreathed in radiant light on Machaira's chest. Though the light dispersed over her, Machaira did not react. Adaine, who had pulled Machaira's head into her lap, felt her Blink spell fade as she lost concentration. She stared, uncomprehending, at the face of her crush.

Those beautiful amber eyes had clouded, staring at Adaine with an emptiness that felt alien on Machaira's features. They remained open, reflecting the flames that still crackled below them, but the deeper light had gone from them, more akin to a pair of marbles than the gaze that had brought such warmth to Adaine's life. Adaine could recall only one other time Machaira had looked like that, but healing spells had worked then.

"No," Kristen muttered, calling up another Cure Wounds, only for the spell energy to dissipate off of Machaira's body with nowhere to go. "Come on, work!"

"Revive her," Fabian ordered. "Bring her back, you've done it before."

"I can't," Kristen cried.

"We watched you do it!" Fabian yelled.

"I don't have the energy," Kristen shouted back. She nonetheless began going through the motions of Revivify, but Machaira's condition didn't change. "See, I can't do it." She wailed. "I'm tapped." Adaine felt large arms wrap around her, but she didn't react until she was pulled away from Machaira. The broad, feline skull slid off her legs with a muted thud, heavy and inert. Adaine didn't speak, had no idea what she could possibly say, but grunted as she struggled against her friend. Gorgug didn't react to her punches even though he was so badly hurt that his blood seeped into her clothes. The berserker didn't speak either, but Adaine felt a heavy tear hit her shoulder.

"Hey, what's going on?" Riz asked as he dropped down to the roof, waving a thanks to the Hudol boy who dropped him off. The inquisitor frowned at their cluster, noticed Machaira, and rushed over, eyes wide. "What are you waiting for? Can't you heal her or revive her or – "

"We tried," Fig snapped, voice beginning to waver. "It's not working." Riz began performing CPR. The Hudol boys began to hover over them, murmuring with ominous interest. A glint out of the corner of Adaine's eyes drew her attention where nothing else did. Her friends' panic faded around her as Adaine caught sight of Machaira's saber a few feet away. It had been drenched in her sister's blood a minute ago but half of it had been cleaned by the steady stream of wyvern venom that still trickled down the edge. Gorgug felt Adaine go slack and loosened his grip. The diviner walked over to the blade as if in a dream.

"Riz, it's not working," Fabian yelled, grabbing his hair. "It's – it's not, uh, I, do, you know, something, ah, else – "

"Are there any priests or – or other clerics here?" Riz yelled. "We need a healer!"

"I'm afraid we're more of, ah, arcane practitioners than divine supports," Percival responded. "Apologies."

"Does anyone have any healing potions?" Riz demanded.

"We can't heal her without a heartbeat," Fig told him, voice fully cracking now. Adaine stood over the saber. Unnoticed by the others and without a target to receive the enchantment, venom had spilled down the long, thin sword and begun to collect in the gutter. The venom was a deep, opaque amber color, remarkably similar to Machaira's eyes but lacking their depth and warmth, just like those of the body behind her. The wyvern venom had pooled with Aelwyn's blood but not mixed, creating a tiny puddle that was half red and half gold. Adaine had been so focused on finally getting a leg up on her sister that she had forgotten to make sure Machaira was okay. She had never told Machaira that, that she… The emotion that swelled to fill her throat was more powerful than Adaine could name, building within her like a flood.

"A heartbeat, okay, okay, come on, please," Riz muttered frantically. The goblin started tossing stuff about behind her, but Adaine was numb to everything except the rising tide of emotion within her and the weapon at her feet. She picked up the saber, golden droplets spinning away as she did so. All high elves received training with the longsword and shortsword, but this blade was lighter than either of them, perfect for someone to run in and strike without slowing down. It had a little cup-shaped hilt that went over the fist, clearly designed for small hands. It fit Adaine, but she could feel the slight indentations in the leather grip where Machaira had held it for years.

Adaine knew the texture of Machaira's hand so intimately that she could imagine that the rogue was holding her hand now. Machaira would squeeze her gently and tell her something soothing in that soft rumble of hers, rising up from her chest like a warm ocean current. _It's okay_, Adaine predicted what the scout would say. _I fight your battles, and you fight mine. It all evens out_. Machaira had been willing to die so that Adaine could bring down her sister. Adaine tilted the saber up and turned to where Aelwyn lay gagged and helpless.

"Found it!" Riz shouted.

"Hey, Adaine?" Fig called hesitantly. "Um, what's up?" Adaine heard them, but the information didn't register. Machaira's sword caught the red and gold sunset, gleaming off of the blood and venom that coated it. The wizard noticed that the blade was old and had been chipped in a few places. But Machaira had cleaned, polished, and oiled it every day Adaine had known her and every day before that. The time she had poured into this saber, the care she had given it, showed in its wonderfully fine edge, sharper than a razor. Beneath the liquid flow, the metal of the weapon had a healthy gleam to it, kept strong by Machaira's diligence through the years. Yes, all of her friends had been willing to die for her today, when her sister revealed herself in a terrifying storm of deadly arcane prowess. But sometimes it was the little things that made the biggest difference, that made something stronger.

Adaine met Aelwyn's terrified gaze, and that emotion crystalized inside her. Seven months ago, the diviner would have had a panic attack and broken down like the useless bitch she used to be. Adaine could still feel the panic rising up within her, trying to break her. But since then, a ragged tabaxi girl, plagued by scars that ran deeper than any trauma Adaine could have imagined, had walked into her life and taken the time to get to know her. Adaine took a step toward Aelwyn. She understood the power of a barbarian's rage now. She also understood Machaira's predatory philosophy behind death. Before this emotion overtook her, she would finish the mission that Machaira had sacrificed her life for.

"The adrenaline worked!" Riz shouted, ear to Machaira's torso. "Do it, now!" Fig and Kristen both began to cast in a disjointed cacophony of magic. Adaine glanced over to see a swirl of infernal fire and divine light dive into Machaira's chest. Riz grinned, haphazardly tossing a syringe and giant needle off of the roof when his fellow rogue spasmed, coughed, and groaned.

"Ow," Machaira croaked. Their whole party released giant sighs of release and grinned, laughing as they shed a few repressed tears. The Hudol boys golf clapped for Riz. Fig went to call Adaine over, but the diviner had already charged across the roof, stumbling in her one shoe. Adaine forced her way into the group with a crazy grin, tiny tears spilling out across her cheeks. Machaira was burned, bloodied, and ripped up. She positively reeked of smoke, burned flesh, iron, and the unmistakable whiff of death. But she looked up at Adaine through half-closed eyes and gave her that soft smile without teeth, the one that told Adaine that the wizard would be okay even if the whole world was fucked up. Her eyes shone once more with that familiar heat, softening from a burn to a glow that was just for Adaine.

"Good to have you back," the high elf told her crush thickly. "You're not allowed to die anymore, got it? This is becoming a bad habit." Machaira's smile grew to a smirk.

"Is that so?" She murmured, placing a shaky palm on the shingles. Fabian helped her sit up, practically vibrating with nervous energy as he placed a hand on her back.

"Yep." Adaine confirmed, carefully holding Machaira's saber toward her on flat hands. The scout rasped out a laugh and grasped her saber but didn't pick it up. She took a long look at Adaine, from the wizard's own burn marks and bloody nose to her ripped clothes and one bare foot. They were both covered in soot, and Adaine could tell from the hot throbbing around her face that she must be sporting a spectacular black eye.

"Gods, your gorgeous," Machaira sighed, eyes impossibly soft as she met Adaine's gaze. Adaine treated Machaira to her best small, neat smile as their friends broke out into snickers. As Machaira slowly gained more of her mental faculties, her tender expression fell into horrified mortification. She clearly hadn't meant to say that out loud in front of an audience, but Adaine didn't care. She hugged her friend with a delighted laugh, nuzzling her face into the crook of Machaira's neck. The tabaxi groaned, possibly because Adaine had tackled her injuries, possibly out of shame, but returned the hug regardless. Adaine buried her nose in Machaira's mane and absorbed the scout's presence, basking in the warm glow of her affection. The massive swell of emotion that threatened to consume her a minute ago had left, leaving her feeling light and free. With Aelwyn defeated, her friends gathered together, and Machaira alive and well in her arms, _this_ was the new moment she wanted to relive every night she tranced.

**Aelwyn's Superior Retort**

4th–level abjuration

Casting time: one reaction

Range: five feet

Components: Somatic

Duration: Instantaneous

After receiving damage from one melee weapon attack by an attacker you can see, you force the attacker to make an Intelligence saving throw. On a failed save, you reflect half of the bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage received from that singular attack back at the attacker and heal for the same amount. On a successful save, the attacker takes a quarter of the damage dealt by the original attack and you heal for the same amount.

I also corrected the spelling for the names of Adaine's parents. I started writing this story before the official spelling came out, and only recently learned of my mistake.


	25. First Kisses and Last Words – Part 1: Acquiescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It might seem easier to talk to someone when you're drunk, but in practicality it's always a bad idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am terrible at maintaining a schedule, but I can still try!
> 
> This chapter was difficult for me to write for a lot of reasons, but the biggest one is that I can't drink - alcohol shuts off my lungs and I start to suffocate. Literally anything you have to say about this chapter to improve it from less cliche descriptions of drunk people to character growth and sentence structure are appreciated.
> 
> I love all of you, but those of you who comment light up my day. May you find joy during these terrible times!
> 
> BE WARNED!!! Before there is love and resolution and happiness, there will be angst! >:)

**Chapter 13: First Kisses and Last Words – Part 1: Acquiescence**

"My goodness, what an absolutely smashing use of Tasha's Hideous Laughter. Ahahahaa." Adaine pulled away from Machaira to look up at Percival Nevillesvine. Machaira was a little reluctant to let her go, especially since the diviner had just begun to play with her fur. But once Adaine's tiny fingers ceased to softly comb her ruff, the tabaxi remembered that they still had a job to do. As Machaira stood up, both Adaine and Fabian, who was still half-supporting her with a hand on her back, tried to help her. The rogue grunted and dragged both of them up instead, momentarily proud of herself before she staggered and had to be saved by her friends. Light-headed, Machaira muttered _thanks_ and _sorry_. In retrospect, she had passed out like, what, thirty seconds ago? She should probably take it easy for a bit.

"It looked, from what I could see," Percival droned on. "Obviously, time and its movement had been somewhat subjected to a transmutation effect, but you had a rather terrible conflict. The combat seemed quite gregarious." Fig grinned and cast Minor Illusion on Aelwyn to give her a fat fold on her belly. Adaine beamed at the tiefling. "Well, as per usual, a Hudol house party has ended in elemental chaos and destruction." Neville summarized, seemingly as unconcerned with the damage to Ostentatia's house as he was interested in making friends with their adventuring party.

"Do these cheerleaders come to your parties a lot and cause trouble?" Riz asked.

"The young women at our school hold their own parties that are obfuscated from divination." Percival began.

"That you know this at all is the most disturbing thing about you," Machaira informed him. Adaine smirked, hand ghosting over Machaira's bicep with nervous energy, and Fabian muttered an agreement from behind.

"And they don't invite us." Percival continued. "So, we pay Aelwyn Abernant to come and create these elemental cheerleaders so that the party is not a sausage festival."

"Will you – " Adaine began.

"Fest –i–vall," Riz repeated through wheezy laughter, a little woozy from his own brush with death.

"– say that again but to my parents," Adaine finished.

"What's that?" Percival asked, smiling far too brightly for such an embarrassing confession.

"Will you tell that to my parents?" Adaine requested cheerily, hands clasped under that small, neat smile that melted hearts.

"Oooh, can I just take out my crystal and record what he's saying?" Fig implored.

"Yes, please do," Adaine replied. Fig turned on her voice recorder and held it toward Percival.

"Just say it again," she commanded quietly, crimson features soft with a trusting expression that would have sent up red flags to anyone who knew her. Percival, however, somehow didn't pick up on what the tiefling was up to.

"As I've just previously stated, myself and my friends are repugnant to those of the fairer sex in our school."

"No, no, no, not insulting yourself," Fig corrected, struggling to swallow her amusement. "Talk about her sister having parties." Kristen and Adaine also took out their crystals.

"Ah, very well. In order for our parties to not be such a saus-age _fest_-i-val," Adaine and Fig both broke at Percival's pronunciation. "We have paid Aelwyn Abernant to come here, sell us drugs and li-_quor_, and create elemental cheerleaders that we might kiss upon the mouth and dance with."

"Isn't that a thing that's against school rules, the kind of thing that might get you kicked out of school?" Adaine inquired with interest. Kristen and Machaira played along, humming and turning inquiring expressions toward the boy. The wide-eyed, eager gaze Percival had worn all evening froze a bit.

"Well, to that I would simply say – " _Poof_. Percival disappeared in a puff of smoke, and the other Hudol boys took that as their queue to vanish as well.

"This could have been your life, Adaine," Kristen reminded the wizard. Adaine opened her mouth and sputtered silently for a moment.

"That wouldn't have been you," Machaira corrected. "You would have been one of the girls hiding from these losers." The wizard's lips rose. Machaira tried not to follow their movement too closely.

"Adaine," Fig waved her crystal with the new recording under the high elf's nose.

"Wait, do we have the crystal that that girl – "

"Yeah," Riz continued their tradition of interrupting Gorgug. "Can we search Adaine, I mean Ael– "

"I have it," Adaine told Riz. Machaira frowned. Had she really been unconscious long enough for them to search Aelwyn? Based on the concerned look Adaine flashed when the rogue stumbled and the way their fighter was still hovering behind her, she had. After they questioned Aelwyn, she needed to figure out what had happened when she was out. Gorgug propped Aelwyn into a kneeling position. Fig strode over to their prisoner, muttering a cantrip and altering her visage into that of a bloody, demonic deity, which, since she was already covered in blood and smoldering cinders, was basically just Fig with glowing eyes and exaggerated horns and teeth. Kristen also cast Thaumaturgy and stood behind Fig with matching eyes, but it was much less scary on the tie-dyed cleric. Aelwyn – defeated and restrained at the foot of her sister – could only stare in terror around the sock in her mouth. Fig took one ridiculously long, filed nail and brushed a strand of hair out of Aelwyn's eyes.

"Where do you and your bitches party?" The bard murmured. Fabian and Kristen both chuckled with approval.

"They party here," Gorgug quietly reminded Fig.

"Shh, shut up," Fig whispered at him.

"No, they have a different party," Kristen reminded him.

"She has different parties," Adaine chipped in.

"Whhrrr-rrrr-rrr-r-rrrrhhrr," Aelwyn replied around the sock.

"Oh, right, the sock," Fabian took up the task of stating the obvious. "We have to take the sock out of her mouth."

"She's gonna cast a spell," Adaine warned as Riz took the sock out. Aelwyn sighed and held her silence for a count of four.

"I party here." She admitted in the quiet, dull tone of the humiliated to their conqueror. "I get paid to come here as the young student said. This is where I go."

"So, you don't even go to the fun party?" Adaine recapped softly, eyes narrowed at her sister, less taunting and more seeking, as if she couldn't match this defeated girl with the popular terror of her childhood. "What a waste." Machaira could almost feel the drain in Aelwyn's morale during those few seconds. The party was briefly distracted from their prisoner as a car pulled up in the driveway.

"Oh god dang, my house!" Ostentatia's unemployed dad stood on the front lawn, hands to his temple as he stared up at his house. Magic spider webs hung from the smashed front window, multiple fires burned across the premises, and a good third of the roof had been blown up. If he went inside, he'd have to pick his way through smashed furniture and the Hangman's skid marks. Adaine began to frantically cast Mending on the house. Each use of the cantrip succeeded in replacing one shingle back where it belonged. Fig tried to cast Minor Illusion over the house, but her cantrip simply sputtered and died. "Oh, god, I couldn't afford the insurance this month, oh no."

"I'm so sorry, sir," Adaine called down in her best polite, high-class elven tone, moving closer toward the front of the roof. "And I think that you might want to call the police because I have very bad news: your daughter is unfortunately trapped in this crystal." Adaine's voice wavered a little as she held up the palimpsest, anxiety beginning to creep back in. "And this girl did it." The diviner pointed down with both hands at Aelwyn, eyes wide as she tried to process what they had just done to this poor man. Gorgug lifted the elder Abernant a bit so the dwarf could see her. Machaira stepped up to stand behind Adaine, not quite touching but close enough to provide support. Adaine glanced over at her, fretful expression easing slightly as she met the tabaxi's eyes. Mr. Ostentatia, however, was still panicking.

"Oh, uh, ah, thanks, I guess," he drawled, slowly processing the elf's statement until the full implications clicked into place. "Oh, god, Ostentatia, my sweetheart! First the dang poison tea… I can't keep her safe. Maybe I should probably just put her in Mumple."

"Oh no, no, no, no," Adaine denied quickly.

"Don't do that," Kristen agreed.

"She's, no, she's – " The rest of Gorgug's sentence was lost to the chatter.

"She loves this school," Machaira chimed in.

"No, that's no…" Riz trailed off.

"No, you shouldn't," Adaine added

"She's so promising," Fig assured him.

"This is not on you," Fabian declared with authority, drawing to his full height and gesticulating with his rapier tip. "This is on the world in which you inhabit."

"Oh god," the old miner groaned again, taking out his crystal. They couldn't hear what he said into the rock, but within moments sirens sounded in the distance. Fig swore loudly. In a neighborhood this rich, police would be here in no time.

"Well, let's ask Aelwyn – " Riz began.

"Yes, Aelwyn," Fig spoke over him, turning back to their captive. "Why were you putting – "

"Why are you putting girls in diamonds?" Riz finished. Not to be outdone, Fig exhaled a long, quiet breath that stirred the air around Aelwyn, seeding tiny whispers of terror around the wizard. Machaira walked behind Aelwyn and rested her saber tip on the older girl's neck for good measure.

"This was my first try," Aelwyn answered quietly, eyes fixed on the roof.

"Where did you get the idea to do it?" Riz inquired.

"Was it Penelope Everpetal?" Adaine added. Machaira applied just a touch of extra pressure, edge of her blade curving over the base of Aelwyn's neck. Aelwyn looked up at Adaine, ignoring both rogues and the bard.

"I think you all well know where I got the idea from."

"Was it Johnny Spells?" Fig asked.

"No, was it Penelope Everpetal?" Adaine repeated.

"Coach Daybreak." Fabian stated grimly.

"Penelope Everpetal?" Gorgug voted timidly. Riz sighed, shoulders slumping as they gave the game away.

"You mean, you really have no idea?" Penelope surmised, looking around the group. A touch of her old superiority crept back in. Machaira grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged her head back. Her claws scraped on Aelwyn's scalp a bit, but the rogue wasn't fussed. Kristen, Fabian, and Gorgug all started shouting as the scout slowly drew the edge of her sword across Aelwyn's flawless skin. The venomous enchantment from her scabbard had ended when she re-sheathed it, but a paper-thin line of red still welled over the pale, high-elven throat.

"Humor us," Machaira suggested. Aelwyn closed her eyes and took a slow breath, face a mask of resignation. Most of her party had gone still, inquiries lulling as they took in the scene. Adaine wore a very small smile that fluttered wider when she met the tabaxi's eyes. Her approval sent Machaira's heart thudding and pushed back the apex predator within. Machaira shuffled her boots, suddenly unsure what to do with herself.

"Was it my dad?" Gorgug broke the serious moment and reopened the floodgate of guesses.

"Or do we have all of the ideas we need – "

"Your dad the Harvestman?" Adaine asked Gorgug, frowning at the half-orc's most recent deduction.

" – and we're just waiting for you to come clean so that we don't kick your ass." Fig finished, red eyes unyielding. Fabian and Kristen shuffled a half-step back from the bard. For all of her ridiculousness, Fig's serious expression in that moment was chilling. Machaira bared her fangs in a grin. Aelwyn sighed, soft and low, and looked down, pressing her neck against Machaira's blade.

"If you're going to kill me, just kill me," she said, every word dull with defeat.

"We're not going to kill you," Adaine told her. Machaira frowned. When had the diviner changed her mind?

"I'm not going to kill you," Fig promised.

"We're just going to make you go to Mumple, which is much worse." Adaine clarified with a happy smile. Machaira smirked.

"Yeah," Fig agreed, eyes lighting with crazy fire.

"You can't make me go to Mumple," Aelwyn rushed, eyes flying wide, stretching up from her kneel, heedless of the incision Machaira's saber dug into her clavicle.

"I don't see why not?" Adaine disputed, light voice trilling with aristocratic scorn.

"You'd fit in perfectly," Kristen assured her.

"Oh my goodness," Adaine gushed, looking about the party with a smile. "You can learn to be an innkeeper or a shopkeeper or – "

"A skateboarder?" Machaira suggested.

"Precisely," Adaine agreed, blue gaze aglow. "So many opportunities available for you."

"Hey," Fig turned to Adaine, barely restraining a grin beneath a questioning look. "Don't you and your jacket have that Mumple school uniform in her size?"

"Oh I do!" Adaine exclaimed, smile growing huge as she reached into her jacket. "I have exactly that, yes." Adaine held up the uniform, dimples creasing at the corner of her mouth. Aelwyn recoiled, and Machaira grabbed her by the shoulder.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, I won't go," she howled, shaking in Machaira's grip. "Listen!" Aelwyn took a moment to compose herself, but the tabaxi could still smell sour fear rising up from her. "Look, I can't tell you." She looked about the party before meeting her sister's gaze squarely. "Adaine, go to my room back at the house. I literally can't tell you." Adaine frowned, triumph dying away to the serious, thoughtful expression that had accompanied so many other clues. Machaira removed her saber, taking her cue from the younger wizard.

"Has somebody cast something on you?" Adaine asked quietly, gears visibly turning behind her eyes. Machaira had to remind herself to stay focused on the case. In that moment the cops pulled up, and Sklonda Gukgak stepped out onto the lawn with a couple other police.

"Hey, mom," Riz called over the edge of the roof. Sklonda looked up with one hand on her arquebus and almost immediately sagged with maternal exhaustion.

"God fucking damn it, honey," she sighed, forcing herself to stand straight.

"Sorry," Riz hollered.

"Hi, Mrs. – Captain Gukgak," Machaira chimed in, tail swishing low. She crept up next to Riz and offered the detective a nervous smile. Sklonda saw her, groaned, and looked back to Riz, rubbing at her temple with one hand. Riz and Machaira exchanged guilty looks, and both rogues flicked their ears down.

"What's going on," Sklonda demanded.

"Okay, so this girl," Riz pointed at Aelwyn as he spoke. Gorgug helpfully lifted her once more. "She put another girl, the, uh, Ostentatia, in a palimpsest. Uh, we were trying to stop her, and here we are, we did." The goblin gestured about the group half-heartedly. Sklonda stared about the scarred warzone that was once a house and tried to form some kind of sentence that would be appropriate for both an active duty officer and a mother.

"Uh, ah, well, good job, and please stop taking the law into your own hands." She settled on, holstering her arquebus as she prepared for a very different kind of battle. Fig, Riz, and Machaira all began to stress–laugh.

"Yes, ma'am," Riz managed around tired chuckles. Adaine and Gorgug cracked smiles but didn't giggle. Eventually the police got a ladder up to the roof and sent a few officers up to carry Aelwyn over to a squad car, during which time Adaine filled them in on her findings from earlier in the evening. Once they were told to come down, after several awkward minutes just talking and standing around on the roof with cops staring at them, Gorgug decided to ignore the ladder and climb down the outside of the chimney. Fig ran over and jumped on his back, grinning like a maniac. Not to be outdone, Fabian flipped off of the roof and stuck a landing on the lawn. Riz leapt into the pool and trotted back around to the front. Adaine wove an arcane symbol that Machaira couldn't recognize and jumped out into open air. The diviner fell in short bursts of three feet and touched down safely if not gracefully.

"The ladder's for that!" Sklonda exploded.

"Thank you, ma'am," Kristen called back, climbing down the ladder. Machaira waited until Kristen was safely on the lawn below to put one foot on the top rung of the ladder and kick off of the roof with the other. Machaira stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and stood atop the ladder as it swung up and fell over, stepping smoothly off onto the street as the ladder clattered to the pavement. Her friends whooped and cheered behind her. Adaine's bright eyes and approving whistle almost made up for the angry glare Sklonda sent her way. Machaira's smile turned to a wince, and she awkwardly picked up the ladder and carried it back to the police, muttering an apology to the frustrated detective as she did so.

"Okay," Sklonda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning attention to Aelwyn. As Mrs. Gukgak steered Aelwyn toward her police cruiser, a familiar car pulled up in front of the house. Angwyn and Arianwyn stepped out almost before the engine stopped and made their way over to the goblin woman, shooing other officers out of their way as they went.

"Hello, mother, hello, father," Adaine nearly purred as she strode across the lawn. Machaira was pretty sure her friend wouldn't need any moral support for this, but she stayed a few feet to Adaine's left just in case. Arianwyn halted just shy of the crowd around her first child, allowing her husband to speak their case.

"I'm so very sorry, there's been a misunderstanding," Angwyn announced at Detective Gukgak with a wave of his hand, ignoring his younger daughter. "Myself and my children are covered by diplomatic immunity. Please release my daughter at once." Fig gasped loudly in the background.

"This is bullshit," the tiefling declared.

"Yes, but she's going to get in trouble though, isn't she?" Adaine pressed. Machaira almost snickered. Her crush clearly had her priorities in order. Angwyn frowned and shrugged at Adaine. The youngest Abernant returned the expression, no longer entertained. "She put a girl in a palimpsest." Angwyn shrugged again.

"Well what kind of girl – "

"She came to a party," Adaine interrupted what was sure to be another racist remark. "I'm not allowed to go to – she's not allowed to go to parties. She said she was going to study." The diplomat did a bit of a noncommittal head shake, and Adaine's face fell into a mask of cold fury. Machaira stiffened instinctively behind her, equal parts ready to support her friend and grateful not to be in her line of fire.

"Well, there's no way of knowing that she wasn't here to study, Adaine." Anguin refuted in a tone of tactical composure, displaying status over emotion.

"She wasn't." Adaine stated, anger rippling under every word. Angwyn looked from one side of the wrecked house to the other.

"Is there any proof of that?" He asked mildly. All seven teens broke out into indignant affirmations.

"Yes, we have a video," Riz made himself heard over the noise. "We have a video."

"Oh, yes," Adaine exclaimed. Fig took out her crystal and played the video of Percival.

"I don't know that little human," Angwyn responded.

"Check her room when you get home," Kristen stage-whispered.

"She made out with Fabian," Machaira nearly screeched.

"Well, ah, yeah, I mean, that's true, sir," Fabian stammered, blushing as the older man turned on him. "I, I did do that, yes." Fabian glanced over to where Aelwyn was miming kisses at him and winked.

"How dare you try to sully my sweet daughter's good name," Angwyn rebuked the half-elf. Kristen, Fig, and Gorgug all roared protests, backing up their fighter. Angwyn fully ignored them and turned away to argue with the police. During the babble, Riz pulled Adaine aside. Machaira twisted one battered ear behind her to listen.

"Hey, shouldn't we steal your parents' car and get back to your house before they get there because they're definitely going to clean up after your sister?" The inquisitor murmured to her.

"I mean, why don't we just get on the bike?" She countered, frowning. "I mean, the three of us can fit on the bike and then – "

"Yeah, you get in a backpack and then – "

"You guys go." Fig took her turn to interrupt Kristen. "I have one last way to gather a little intel." Fabian nodded along. The conversation broke off as Angwyn spoke up, pushing past the other officers to address Captain Gukgak again.

"Excuse me, madam, if you would care to…" The high elf made a shooing motion at Sklonda. Machaira hissed quietly, but the detective wasn't moved.

"We've met, sir," she reminded the wizard, gesturing between them. "I was in your home earlier tonight." Adaine's face, which had been gaining color throughout the conversation, was a bright, deep red, features twisted in embarrassment and anger. Machaira took a little side-step toward her and offered a quick sympathetic look.

"Release my daughter from these handcuffs at once," Angwyn ordered, tone cold and dismissive in a way that expected compliance. But Sklonda was not his emotionally abused daughter. The officer got a goblinoid look to her eyes, pupils slitting as something mean entered them. Machaira instinctively ducked her head down and wrapped her tail around her ankle, memories of her mother's disdain pushing to the surface of her mind.

"Well, sir, your diplomatic immunity obviously comes from your position as a diplomat and extends to your family." The officer's hard voice carried an authority to match or surpass the larger man. "However, diplomatic immunity can be revoked if any member of that diplomat's family feels unsafe in the presence of said individual."

"I feel unsafe." Adaine declared firmly. Sklonda met Adaine's gaze. Both women wore identical expressions of cold, unyielding rage, and Machaira found herself at once afraid and slightly turned on.

"Oh, well, we gotta take her in for custody. Thank you, young madam." Sklonda grabbed Aelwyn, jumped up to grab the back of her head, shoved her down, threw her into the cruiser, and slammed the door. Fig and Machaira shared a delighted cackle. Angwyn whirled on Adaine, eyes wide and a little wild. The diviner stared back with a small, pleasant smile.

"What have you done?" He hissed. "A member of this family in a–a–a _goblin's_ jail cell?"

"She tried to murder me." Adaine replied, arching her eyebrows and mirroring her father's previous cold, matter-of-fact tone. Angwyn sputtered like a mad man. Machaira flashed her friend a huge smile but stayed quiet, hands clasped and tail rising in delight at the young wizard's victory.

"Be that as it – you, you let her go at once!" Angwyn spat, jabbing a finger at Adaine and Sklonda. His daughter stared back, unflinching and merciless to her father's cries. "Unapprehend that young woman!" Sklonda turned to face Angwyn.

"Your Eminency, with all due respect, suck my dick." The young adventures giggled as the detective flipped him off. "If you have any problems, you can come downtown. Or I can ask your daughter if _you_ make her feel unsafe."

"Woo," Machaira cheered, smiling hugely.

"Nice, I'm so glad – " Fig began.

"Your mom is so cool," Adaine informed Riz, shaking her head slightly. "I just love your mom so much."

"She's a strong mom," Riz agreed with a clap. "Just a strong mom."

"She's the best," Machaira asserted empirically.

"Can I come and stay with you guys at your tiny apartment," Adaine laughed, face breaking into a crazy grin.

"Yeah, then we'd have two girls sleeping on the couch," Riz reminded her.

"I'm down," Adaine asserted, still snickering. "That'd be awesome." Machaira blushed, started to purr, caught herself, blushed harder, and stared at her boots. Adaine laughed a little louder and shoulder bumped her.

"You just sent your sister to jail; I guess dreams do come true." The tabaxi teased. Adaine laughed again and brushed the back of her fingers across Machaira's hand.

"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed. The simple reply didn't quite match the strength of affection in her eyes and voice. Machaira flattened her ears but smiled, eyes flickering to and from Adaine's face as she tried to figure out whether there was something else behind that statement.

"So, will they have to go down?" Kristen interjected. Machaira seized upon the distraction and joined her friends in watching Adaine's parents fume as the police began to pull away. Sklonda leaned her out the side of the car and pointed at Riz.

"Home." She ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Riz gave her a double thumbs up. Machaira smirked. Sklonda turned the finger on her.

"You too." Machaira's ears went flat again, and she flinched, tucking her muzzle under her jacket collar before nodding. Sklonda's hard gaze wavered before she reentered 'cop mode' and rolled up her window. Angwyn huffed and went to go yell at some other background cops who were trying to takes notes about the crime scene. Arianwyn went to go join him. As Sklonda pulled away and turned the cruiser downtown, Aelwyn looked back at Fabian and licked her lips again. The fighter grinned, winked, and pursed his lips in a kiss. Adaine, Machaira, Fig, and Riz all gave him unimpressed looks while Kristen _oooh_'d. The others looked to the human and half-elf and broke out into laughter.

"Fabian, we need to go," The Ball whispered.

"Sorry, yes, on my motorbike," Fabian agreed, waving to Adaine and Riz.

"It's not okay." Adaine told him flatly.

"What's not okay?" Fabian played dumb.

"Are we all getting on your motor – "

"We can't all get on the motorbike." Riz took his turn to interrupt Gorgug.

"But then I'll take – "

"It's okay – " Fig cut off Fabian.

"I'll stay," Kristen spoke over Fig.

"I think I should go down," Fig continued. "I have, I wanna go… I would like to do something at the police office."

"Right, I'll take Adaine and Riz, The Ball, and – " Fabian began.

"Do you wanna, can we go…" Gorgug gestured to Fig.

"Yeah," Fig nodded.

"The four of you can go to the police office," Adaine summarized.

"Okay, yeah,"

"We'll shadow you in case something else shady happens," Machaira offered the tiefling before nodding toward Adaine. "Go make sure your sister rots. Whatever else we find out, today was a win." She directed the last statement to the party, trying not to let her eyes linger on the high elf too much.

"Hell yeah," Fig agreed.

"Fuck yes," Adaine echoed with feeling. "Bitch got what was coming to her." Machaira chuffed. Adaine smirked and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before hopping up behind Fabian on the Hangman. The others turned and started making their way downtown towards the police station, setting a light jog down the mostly-empty sidewalk. Well, Fig and Kristen jogged while the rogue and barbarian strolled alongside. Spellcasters could sling all the Fireballs they wanted to, no number of spell slots could replace leg day.

"So, Machaira," Kristen eventually broke the silence. "You think Adaine's gorgeous, huh?"

"I have two working eyes, so yes," Machaira stated flatly, eyes forward. She wasn't a good enough liar to try denying it. Fig grinned, and though Gorgug tried to look away, he kept glancing back at the girls every few seconds. Machaira should have known that her friends would rake her over the coals for her slip up. The tabaxi instinctively braced her shoulders as if this was something she could fight.

"So, you gonna…" Kristen made two peace signs and interlocked them like a pair of scissors. "Fuck her?" Briefly, Machaira wondered what the point of the hand gesture was if that was her follow up.

"I think Fig and Fabian are hot, too," she responded, picking her words carefully. "Doesn't mean I'm going to act on it." Fig grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.

"Yeah, but you didn't tell Fig or Fabian that they were hot when you came back to life."

"Sorry, what?"

"And Adaine seemed pretty into it," Kristen rolled over Machaira's interjection. "Also, you didn't say she was hot. You called her gorgeous."

"She's my best friend," Machaira reminded her, struggling to keep her tone neutral. "I should hope that she'd be happy that I was okay. Besides, Adaine is straight. Not all people have a gay streak, and not all relationships are based on sex." The rogue could hear a sharp edge creep into her words and winced. She was too hard on the fledgling lesbian sometimes. "Anyway, I was only half-conscious when I said that."

"Yeah, but are you guys really just friends?" Kristen pressed with a lecherous smile. "And half-conscious is enough. If Aelwyn would go for you, why not Adaine? She's already touching you all the time. Is that really innocent? Even if she's just looking to experiment, it could be fun. Life is short, ya' know? Well, Adaine's life isn't, but yours is. Maybe she'll find you a spare collar in Aelwyn's room or something." The human made some vague thrusting motions with her shoulders that looked more bizarre than sexual while walking. "You two could get together tonight, and she could pull your tail or, you know, grab you by the, uh, um, scruff, or – "

"Kristen!" Fig hissed at the cleric. "Not the time." The tiefling's expression had gone from teasing glee to concerned panic. Machaira could feel her own face hardening, humanoid features smoothing over into a mask. Her heart felt heavier. Fig grabbed Kristen by the arm and slowed down, which meant that everyone was walking at their normal pace and the spellcasters naturally fell behind by ten or fifteen feet. The other girls had a short, whispered conversation that Machaira only caught snatches of: _wrong angle_; _the matter with you_; _not the same_; and _on their own_. She didn't process any of it though. Kristen was horny and impulsive, but the more Machaira thought about it, the more it made sense. Machaira knew that Adaine cared about her, but… it all added up. The scout hadn't imagined Adaine as much of an experimenter, but this perfectly explained her behavior. Her stomach petrified and sunk down through her body as they walked. Somehow this was so much worse than her previous turmoil, partially because it killed a tiny shred of hope that Machaira didn't even know she had left. Her scars felt suddenly deeper and heavier, as if the fissures in her skull were metal seams weighing on her head, pressing into her bones. _Ugly_… _whore_… _Machaira_.

"She was losing it." The tabaxi's attention snapped to Fig. The musician had jogged up alongside her without the scout's notice. "I mean, we were all losing it. If Riz didn't – we thought you were done for. Even Fabian dropped a tear or two. But Adaine was just, like, dead. She couldn't process it, you know. The moment she, she saw your…" Fig wiped roughly at her face and sniffed deeply. "Uhh, when she saw your eyes just, kind of, open like that, she just shut down. She wouldn't talk or respond to us. Adaine literally couldn't think of a world without you. Before Riz did the thing, she was just standing there with your sword and, and – she was going to do it. I could see it in her eyes. She was going to stab or cut or whatever to her sister right there on the roof in front of everybody with your saber. And it wasn't because of the stuff from before; it was because Aelwyn had taken you away from her, and she just couldn't deal with that." The bard took another breath, snapped her mouth closed, huffed, then continued. "Kristen means well, but you're – you shouldn't listen to her. No one falls apart that fast and that completely over, you know…" Fig trailed away. Machaira watched her, listened to her, but she felt numb. She wasn't really sure what Fig was talking about. "Talk to Adaine, okay?" Fig gave her arm a squeeze and trotted forward, panting as she tried to lead the group.

Machaira was still only half-present when the police station came into sight and Fig revealed her big plan. Fig, disguised as Penelope Everpetal, was going to try to talk to Aelwyn, interrogate her alone, and hope the wizard might be more forthcoming. However, glancing in through the front doors, Aelwyn wasn't immediately visible, so the bard bit her lip, hummed unhappily, and transformed.

"I only have an hour," she muttered to them before striding into the precinct, perfectly capturing Penelope's popular girl swagger. Each long high-step made Machaira's claws twitch even though she knew it was an illusion, so she figured Aelwyn would probably be fooled.

"Hi, I, like, heard that, um, Aelwyn was here? Can I speak with Aelwyn?" The tiefling droned to a heavy-set half-orc behind the front desk. The thick-necked cop took a minute to focus off of his computer and another to focus on the actual question.

"Uh… oh, uh, Aelwyn Abernant?"

"Yeah." Fig did an exasperated sideways head bob that said 'I'm-so-pretty-look-at-my-hair-and-listen-to-me'. Gods, Machaira hadn't realized how much she disliked Penelope Everpetal until now. The officer grunted and checked a few papers.

"Uh, yeah, she's not accepting visitors right now," he informed Fig.

"She would be if she knew it was me," Fig assured him, voice smoothing into a calm, confident flow. Gorgug frowned and leaned over Fig, peering at the officer. The half-orc looked over at the barbarian and frowned.

"… Gorgug?" The officer inquired quietly. Machaira and Fig exchanged incredulous stares. Kristen's eyes were wide as saucers. _No way_… The tabaxi thought, temporarily forgetting about her own drama.

"Yeah, I'm Gorgug." The berserker replied shifting a half-step closer to the officer.

"Oh my god," he breathed, leaning closer.

"Who are you?" Gorgug asked, cautious hope creeping into his voice.

"You're that freaky kid who steals backpacks," the cop swept on. Fig immediately erupted with cackles. Machaira desperately fought back a grin and patted the despondent barbarian's bicep, tail thwapping against his back before curling up over her spine in amusement. Kristen leaned against her staff for support as giggles overtook her.

"I think there's been – some wires got crossed," Gorgug murmured, cheeks darkening to a pine green. "I don't steal backpacks. It's sort of this – my friend was being funny." He tried to appear unruffled but only managed to look surprised before deflating. The girls quickly swallowed their inappropriate laughter and offered supportive looks. Fig joined Machaira in rubbing Gorgug's other arm, guilt entering her expression. Apparently, they had all underestimated Penelope Everpetal's ability to spread gossip, and Fig hadn't forgotten her role in Gorgug's social murder. Machaira butted her skull against Gorgug's arm and crooned at him, a low, keening chuff that rose in pitch like a musical scale. The officer's attention briefly shifted to her, suspicion darkening his small, orcish eyes. But Gorgug's gaze stayed soft as he smiled and leaned into their touch before breaking away, mollified. The cop grunted and sat back, arms crossed. Fig dropped her sympathetic expression and redonned Penelope's mask of entitled power.

"I think you're gonna want to talk to Aelwyn," she suggested, rambling, vapid voice veiling sinister undertones. "And if you need, I could bring Mr. Everpetal down here." She tapped her fingers on his desk, illusory rings flashing in the harsh florescent lighting.

"Huh, rich girl, alright," the officer muttered to himself, heaving his bulk out of his seat and gesturing to Fig. "Come on with me."

"Okay," the bard replied, turning to give the rest of the party a huge grin and two thumbs up before reassuming her persona and following the cop. After a minute, Kristen excused herself to go to the bathroom, accidently tripping over her own staff and apologizing to a half dozen police officers that were forced to scatter as the cleric flailed about, blushing madly and offering to heal any bruises caused by her misstep.

"Kristen trips over her own feet as much as she trips over her own tongue, but she's a sweetheart." Machaira remarked, smiling. "We're lucky to have her in the party. I should tell her that more often."

"We're lucky to have you too," Gorgug mumbled. Machaira looked up at him, and the half-orc blushed again. "I mean, you know, I'm glad you're not dead." Machaira frowned.

"Gorgug, what exactly happened when I went down?" She asked slowly. Gorgug shrank into his giant shoulders.

"Uh, you, um, you died." He said simply. "Like, _dead _dead. Kristen couldn't bring you back to life, and no one could heal you because your heart had stopped. Riz eventually shot you up with a dose of adrenaline from the first aid kit so the spells could take, but there were a few minutes where we, we thought that, you know…" Gorgug looked at his feet and swallowed. Blood and soot still covered most of their bodies. The berserker looked back up and smiled shyly around his tusks. "I'm glad you're okay." Machaira pursed her lips and smiled, caught somewhere between affection and dismay. She pulled the larger teen into a side hug and received a big squeeze in return. The rogue ducked away after a second and took a deep breath. At least everyone's behavior made sense now. "Did you see anything?" Gorgug asked.

"I… no," Machaira admitted, straining to remember. "I think – I have a vague memory of being somewhere dark, and… I think Bast told me to 'stop wasting her time and get back there,' but I didn't see her. I don't know; it's all a little hazy. I, I really only remember waking up and feeling like someone had ripped out my – okay, that checks out." She concluded, touching the wound on her throat. Gorgug chuckled. Machaira smiled up at him. "I'm sorry I scared you like that."

"Don't apologize for dying," Gorgug rebuked gently. "That's not your fault. You're back now, and that's all that matters."

"Well, that and the fact that Kristen will never let me live down the fact that I, uh, complimented Adaine," Machaira stammered, wincing as the implications of her slip up sank in. Kristen was going to be annoying about this, no doubt, but her insight from before stung twice as badly when paired with the memory of Adaine's tearful laugh. The phantom sensation of small, elven fingers nestled in her fur mocked the tabaxi now that she knew her friend's emotions fell so near yet so far from her own.

"She's not Adaine." Gorgug snapped Machaira out of her self-loathing. "Kristen is nice, and she means well, but she's not Adaine. Adaine doesn't, isn't like – she's not just about sex. I mean, she might like, I don't know, okay…" Gorgug broke off, cringing. "Maybe she would want to, you know, but she likes you more than that. She, she was just… lost. I mean, Adaine wants you for more than… she likes you a lot, as much as you like her." Machaira flinched and hissed, eyes wide, ears back, and fur poofing. Gorgug shrank back instinctively.

"I, how do you, I don't, what?" Machaira rambled, brain scrambling for a proper response.

"Was that supposed to be a secret?" Gorgug guessed.

"How, why, when did you find out? How?" Machaira demanded.

"I mean, I think we all figured it out," he told her. The scout pulled her jacket tighter over her body, skin crawling with sudden vulnerability. "Of course, I figured it out first, but we all know. And I think Adaine knows too." Machaira maintained some semblance of control for all of three seconds before she started to dissolve, digging clawed fingers into her scalp. "I think she likes you though." Gorgug hurried on. "And I'm really insightful." The rogue strained to muffle the rising tide of panic within her. "Fig thinks so too!" He pressed. "Just…" The half-orc reached out and gently touched her shoulders. Machaira's gaze flitted to his, and yellow eyes locked with black ones. "Talk to her. Maybe not tonight because of, you know, her family and stuff, but soon. She… she's your friend, aaaaand this is not my business." Gorgug took his hands off of Machaira and stuck them in the pockets of his mangled hoodie. But the barbarian shifted to gently shoulder bump her, face torn between regret and support. Machaira took a deep breath, then another, and another until she had calmed down enough to look normal by the time Kristen returned from the bathroom. Kristen seemed briefly concerned for the tabaxi, but their cleric was clearly still a little drunk from the party and wasn't fully present.

_Tat tat tat tat tat_.

The three teens turned as one to see Penelope Everpetal knocking on the glass doors to the precinct, eyes wide and gesturing madly for them to follow her.

"Why are you outside?" Gorgug asked.

"Is that Fig?" Kristen inquired. Penelope nodded. "Okay, ah, yeah, alright, let's go." Gorgug and Machaira shared an uneasy look but followed. "What happened?" The cleric demanded about a hundred feet from the front doors. Penelope/Fig tried to answer, but Kristen cut her off almost immediately. "Let's keep going." Fig nodded an agreement, and the four friends meandered down the sidewalk as the bard related her findings.

"Penelope Everpetal put her up to it," the tiefling told them.

"Okay," Gorgug murmured, frowning.

"Penelope?" Kristen clarified.

"Yeah." The human put a hand over her mouth thoughtfully.

"Okay, so let's go get – "

"Yeah, let's go rendezvous," Fig interrupted.

"With her?" Gorgug asked, gesturing to Fig's disguise.

"With the other people and just consolidate intel," Fig corrected.

"Hey, what do we call our group by the way?" Gorgug inquired. Machaira frowned. She'd never thought about that before.

"The Dads," Kristen suggested after a moment. Machaira snorted, a grin curling across her muzzle.

"The Dads?" Fig repeated, snickering.

"I don't think that fits at all," Gorgug managed around his own giggles.

"The Daddy-less Daughters?" Fig tried again, struggling to suppress a smile.

"Group with Daddy Issues?" Kristen proposed.

"Anyway, let's all meet back up," Gorgug suggested, quickening his pace. The half-orc's smile was tainted with regret for daring to ask such a question. Machaira snickered, tail briefly rising as she strolled after him. Checking their crystals, each of them had received a text from the others to meet at Seacaster Manor. Realizing that they had passed the bridge to cross the River Marigold, the four teens whirled around and jogged back to meet up with the others on time. Machaira wished her heart didn't have to do that little leap when she caught sight of Adaine's pale blonde hair. The two groups swapped findings and took turns examining the evidence against Aelwyn: a custom spell, Detect Maiden; the recipe for Modify Memory; a model ship carved with storm evocation runes, denoted as _The Harpy_; two loaded guns, which Riz pilfered for bullets; and some fuzzy handcuffs, which Adaine had apparently been trying to keep secret from Fabian.

"Dude," she snapped at Riz when the goblin shared that tidbit.

"Sorry," Riz mumbled. Adaine slapped Kristen's and Fabian's hands away from her bag and proceeded to tell them about the run in with her parents as they were leaving. At the end of the story, everyone else applauded Adaine for her triumph. Pride and a fierce joy temporarily overwhelmed Machaira's anxiety, and she picked Adaine up by the hips and spun her with a throaty bark of approval, tail streaming overhead. The wizard yelped but giggled as Machaira gently deposited her back on the ground, both girls glowing.

"Well done," Machaira rumbled, trying to pour affection into her gaze. "I always knew you'd put those pompous assholes in their place."

"It feels like I've fucking toppled a monarchy," Adaine laughed, treating the tabaxi to one of her small, neat smiles.

"The king is dead; long live Queen Adaine," Machaira declared. Adaine giggled and beamed at her. Even though she was back on the ground, the high elf still held Machaira by her forearms. The rogue noticed that her own hands were still on Adaine's hips, but the diviner didn't seem to mind. If anything, she stepped a bit closer. Machaira had to look up at her to maintain eye contact. Something in those blue eyes was so very warm, inviting Machaira in until Adaine's gaze flickered to the side and widened. Adaine immediately went from loose and comfortable in her arms to tense and blushing. Suddenly, Machaira remembered that this incredibly intimate moment was actually taking place in front of all of their friends. The scout took her cue to step back, red showing through the white fur on her cheeks all the way down her throat. The entire incident had lasted all of three seconds, but Machaira felt raw and exposed, tail lashing and claws twitching in their sheaths.

"Fuck, they were so close," Kristen commented.

"Kristen!" Fig rebuked in a sharp whisper, giving the cleric a slap on the arm. "What did I just say?"

"What is going on here?" Fabian wondered aloud.

"Oops," Kristen winced. "Sorry." She apologized towards Adaine and Machaira. The high elf glared at Kristen, shot Machaira a flustered look, bit her lip, and put her head in her hands. Machaira's shredded ears pressed down into her head, suddenly feeling even smaller than she already was. Riz was straining not to laugh in the same breathless way he did when any of them did something so stupid it scared him.

"Can I ask you a question about the thing that you saw with the runes?" Gorgug asked.

"Yeah," Adaine turned to Gorgug, seizing upon the half-orc's blessed distraction.

"Do you think that's the thing actually casting the spell on whatever this ship is?" Gorgug questioned. "Like, what would happen if you broke that?"

"_The Harpy_?" Adaine held the model ship up for clarification. "But it already happened."

"The spell was cast on September first of last year," Fabian reminded them.

"But why would the spell still be going?"

"But isn't it keeping something hidden?" Fig and Gorgug asked at the same time.

"No, ah, as far as the identifier fellow, ah, he explained, it – it was the – it kept anyone from knowing that the spell was being cast or that it had been cast," Fabian explained. Kristen bent over and squinted at the model ship like she was searching for any greater significance but apparently found nothing more and straightened again with a frown.

"If the spell isn't still continuing…" Fig trailed off for a moment before turning to Adaine. "Why would she still hang on to it, right?"

"Let's go talk to my papa," Fabian suggested. Fig giggled, but the party agreed and followed Fabian up the walkway toward Seacaster Manor. Adaine wiggled her way through the group to hover near Machaira. Her expression was less afraid and more… lightly anxious, similar to how she had looked the first time Machaira had 'come back' in front of her. Deciding that subtly spoke volumes, the tabaxi gently hip-bumped her pale shadow, quirking a small smile. The high elf visibly relaxed and returned the smile. Machaira whipped her tail against Adaine's legs, sharply kinking it away when the wizard reached to grab her. Adaine loosed a soft exhalation of laughter, eyes lighting with some of her triumph from earlier in the evening. Reassured that her friend was okay, Adaine stayed next to Machaira but no longer gave off waves of discomfort as they entered the Manor. They found Bill Seacaster in the drawing room, sharing a drink with the most plain, white–toast business man Machaira had ever laid eyes on.

"Ah, young Fabian, my boy, my darling boy," Bill cried as the party entered the room, eye crinkling over a giant grin.

"Ah, Papa, good to see you," Fabian laughed in return, straightening in his father's presence.

"Ooh, you and your young friends are here. You seem to have some battle scars on you," Bill remarked, taking note of the dirt, blood, and ash that caked the bruised children before him.

"Ah, yes, Papa, another–another one well fought," Fabian stuttered, smile straining as he gestured vaguely around them. Their fighter shared a hearty laugh with his father.

"That's what I like to hear," the older man crowed. "Now, young reedy Mr. Hughes here would know nothing of battle, would you?" Bill Seacaster whirled on his guest with a manic grin.

"No, I would not." Mr. Hughes's reply was as calm and dry, face devoid of any real emotion despite the huge insult that had just ben slung his way. For a moment, Fabian faltered, as if unsure whether he was supposed to ridicule this man as well.

"Ah… well, ah, it is fine, Mr. Hughes, everyone has their lot in life," Fabian rushed, forcing out a laugh in a strained mimicry of his father. "Papa, do you know of a ship known as – "

"Oh, wait, hold on," Gorgug interrupted Fabian for a change.

"Oh, uh, maybe we could…" Kristen tilted her head to the side.

"Can we talk over here?" The berserker requested.

"Yeah," the human agreed, giving Fabian a meaningful look. The fighter frowned.

"Do you mind if we talk over here for a second." Gorgug repeated, staring intently at Fabian. Fig turned on heel and approached Mr. Hughes with a winning smile. "Wait," Gorgug cautioned feebly before remembering that this was Fig.

"Maybe you shouldn't mention all of this stuff in front of the bank guy," Kristen muttered to Fabian, leading them over to the side of the room. Fig paused on her way toward Mr. Hughes, who had resumed making small chat with Bill Seacaster as the rest of them shuffled over for a sidebar.

"No, I was just going to ask about _The Harpy_," Fabian murmured.

"No, don't, shh," Adaine reprimanded, holding her hand flat and sideways over her lips as she shushed him. Machaira found the Fallinel gesture oddly endearing.

"I just feel like the – I don't know what that guy's deal is because – remember there's weird stuff going on with the bank," Gorgug stuttered.

"Yeah, the bank might be the epicenter," Kristen reiterated.

"We don't know which bank he's from," Fabian protested.

"Maybe we just don't have the conversation in front of him," Gorgug proposed.

"Hi," Fig chose that moment to interject between the adults' conversation. "What bank do you work at?"

"Well, young lady, I represent KVX Bank." Mr. Hughes didn't seem at all bothered that this strange tiefling had correctly guessed his profession. "We're based out of Bastion City."

"Is that the bank that doesn't have free lollipops?" Fig clarified.

"We have a policy about not handing out sweets or pens to people." He confirmed.

"Oh, okay, cool," Fig nodded along, maintaining composure while Kristen had a near silent but very dramatic episode, practically slapping Fabian as she gestured toward Mr. Hughes. "You work out of, like, an office?"

"I work out of a skyscraper, the financial headquarters down in Bastion City." The banker elaborated, unruffled by their prying.

"Oh, wow, cool," Fig remarked, managing to seem genuinely interested in what Mr. Hughes had to say.

"I'm booooOOORED! Right? Alright, what are you gonna do tonight?" Kristen bellowed, looking round the group with a lazy grin. Machaira elbowed her sharply in the ribs. "Ow!" But Bill still turned toward Kristen and frowned softly in her direction.

"Young lady, why are you bored?"

"Oh, no, I was just kidding," Kristen mumbled, directing her gaze toward the ground.

"Don't you know that me and this fella here are in the same line of work?" Bill laughed and jabbed a thumb toward Mr. Hughes, smiling as if prepared to drop a juicy punch line.

"No way." Kristen perked up immediately, eyes huge with renewed interest.

"That we are," Bill confirmed, leaning toward the cleric and thumping a meaty hand on his thigh. "We're both _thieves_." The two humans shared a low laugh.

"I thought you were a privateer, sir," Adaine interjected, voice crisp enough to be heard clearly without shouting, winning smile fixed to her face. Bill Seacaster whirled on her, eyebrows arched. Machaira stiffened.

"What?"

"A privateer," Adaine repeated cheerily.

"A privateer?" Bill echoed with a frown, elbows sticking out to either side as he leaned forward. "Who said I was a privateer?" Adaine turned to Fabian in confusion.

"Papa – " Fabian began.

"Who put those words – I, young lady, am a pirate through and through," Bill growled, scowl turning from Adaine to Fabian. Adaine, perhaps sensing that she had opened up an issue larger than expected, retreated into herself a little, head ducking down and arms pulling closer to her sides. Machaira curled a lip in a silent snarl, hackles bristling as she shifted closer toward her crush.

"Ooooh," Kristen trilled, turning on Fabian with a delighted smirk. Why did she have to stroke the proverbial flames?

"Ahm, Papa, sometimes when in mixed company, I'll describe your chosen profession as a privateer that you might come off as more of a, ah, ah, ah, gentleman then, uh, that, you know?" Fabian's hands windmilled in circles as he stuttered. The pirate sat up straight, face creasing with incredulous, horrible wonder as his son spoke.

"More of a gentleman?" Bill Seacaster repeated, tone soft and dangerous.

"Eh, uh, bah, in, ah, in mixed company it's just, I'm not – sometimes the word pirate can be construed as a, you know, something negative." Fabian's stuttering gave out to a small sigh, lower lip held between his teeth.

"Fabian made out with a hot girl tonight." Fig loudly informed the room. Riz laughed breathlessly as Bill Seacaster slowly turned toward Fig, regarded her for a moment, and swiveled back to Fabian.

"I – I can't – "

"Trying to help, sorry," Fig mumbled under her breath to the fighter.

"So did I, but she wasn't real." Kristen added quickly. Machaira elbowed her in the ribs again.

"I'm going to table how proud I am of you for making out for a moment." Bill stated slowly, gesturing with one hand toward the bard.

"Sorry, I tried," Fig whispered again, struggling to hold back her giggles. Bill scooted forward in his chair, single eye glistening with new emotion.

"Are you ashamed of me, my boy?" The elder Seacaster's voice was almost painful to hear, swagger replaced by betrayal.

"I could never be ashamed of you, Papa," Fabian assured him.

"Then why not say what I am?" Fabian stuttered, searching for a reply. "Does this man shame you?" Bill yelled, drawing his rapier and placing the tip at the banker's throat. "Does this man shame you!" Bill stared about the teens, eyes wide and wild. "Would it bring shame to any of you to have this man as your father? Because let me tell you something…" He waited to make sure he had their undivided attention, jabbing the point further under Mr. Hughes's chin. Adaine flinched next to her, and Machaira instinctively tensed for a fight. "What this man is, I am but more honest. You ever take someone's home away from them, Mr. Hughes?" For the first time that night, Mr. Hughes displayed a trace of emotion, wide eyes transfixed to the rapier at his neck and sweat beading across his skin. But when he spoke, the banker's voice had not changed from its previous droning monotone.

"We occasionally foreclose on a property."

"Aye," Bill agreed, gaze darting from Fabian to Mr. Hughes to the others. "I've robbed many things in this world but never someone's dwelling place." Bill bared his teeth at Fabian, and Machaira feared that she had finally found someone with a scarier snarl than herself. "I am the more courageous version of this man and every man like him."

"I mean, I certainly think that you're better than my dad." Adaine told him quickly and quietly, hands crossed in front of her, blue eyes wide with sincerity.

"Mine too," Machaira agreed, still poised for a brawl.

"My dad too," Kristen added.

"I have two dads, and they're both great," Fig informed him. Everyone but Fabian and Riz cracked a smile or giggled at that. The goblin hid his face in his hands, and Fabian seemed incapable of breaking the awkward, uncomfortable gaze of his father. Bill moistened his lips, opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and pointed at his son.

"You and I were raised very differently, and I'm realizing that now." His whisper was as soft as quilt and raw as a fresh wound. "There's no shame in being who you are. I'm a pirate, lad. And I'm sorry that that gave you pause and felt like something you had to conceal." Bill Seacaster sheathed his sword.

"I'd like to, just, adjourn to my room for a second," Fabian said, voice cracking quietly.

"I am so sorry I got you in trouble." Adaine murmured to Fabian, expression drawn, almost blank as she processed the severity of her mistake. Machaira instinctively flicked her tail around Adaine's leg, hating how much she liked that Adaine immediately brushed her fingers over it.

"I'd better go," Mr. Hughes said, grabbing his briefcase. Bill Seacaster kicked him upside the head, grabbed a rope hanging from the ceiling, and swung sadly off to an indoor crow's nest. At that, Fig, Gorgug, Adaine, and Machaira exchanged mixed looks of delight and confusion while Riz and Kristen snickered. "I'm going to go. I've been kicked in the head by one of my…" Mr. Hughes trailed off into mumbles and bent over to retrieve some of the contents of his briefcase that had fallen out when Bill kicked him. Riz slunk closer toward the banker, eyes flicking from the briefcase to Fig. Ah, right, of course. This was why Riz had better grades than her.

"What's your favorite song, Mr. Hughes?" Fig asked loudly.

"Not now," the banker declined, accepting a stack of papers from Riz as he did so. The inquisitor's hands brushed over Mr. Hughes's coat as he stepped back, and it was a credit to his pickpocketing skills that Machaira had no idea what he had stolen. Fabian took this moment to break away from the group and walk off into the manor.

"So, we should probably leave, right?" Fig polled the group as Mr. Hughes slammed the front door behind him. " 'Cause we're just in someone's house – "

"No." Adaine cut her off.

"Maybe we should just go to Fabian's room…" Riz began.

"We should go to Fabian's room." Adaine's quiet assertion melted Machaira's heart just a little… further.

"He needs his friends right now," Machaira agreed with them.

"We should just talk to Fabian." Riz said.

"We need to get this information," Fig protested.

"Let's just try to cheer him up," Gorgug countered.

"Let's just go to Fabian's room," Riz voted a third time. Fig, seeing that she was outvoted, quickly adopted an unruffled expression, squared her shoulders, and shrugged.

"Alright," the tiefling relented, casually looking away.

"But real quick…" Riz withdrew a business card from his pocket. "Alston Hughes, KVX Bank, Special Investments Department," he read aloud. Adaine frowned and held out a hand for the card. The wizard squinted at the KVX logo for a minute before pouting and shaking her head.

"KVX, the Roman numerals, like, V – what is V, fifty?" Gorgug wondered aloud, forming a **V** with his hands for emphasis.

"Well but…" Adaine trailed off, staring at the ground. She wore the same cute little pout as she did when working out a difficult homework problem. Machaira forced herself to look away. "No, VX is five and then ten, but that's not how you would do it."

"Well, doesn't it minus if it's on the left side?" Riz proposed.

"No, but if you, uh, I mean, ten minus five is just five. So it would just be five." Adaine rejected. "So it's not Roman numerals." Machaira bit her tongue before she could ask what Roman numerals were.

"Right…" Riz murmured. "Let's go to Fabian." It took a little while to find Fabian's room. They followed the hall he had disappeared down, tentatively checking behind a few doors that were, thankfully, unoccupied. When they finally found his room, Machaira was impressed by how clean it was. The hardwood floor was free of clutter and shone from the lights overhead. The room was about twice the size of Machaira's camp, and his bed dwarfed her whole tent. However, the bed's potential allure was drastically lessened by the thirty square foot oil painting of Bill Seacaster hanging over it. The room's only other decorations consisted of a desk, a chair, and a few trophies and family heirlooms strategically placed on shelves across the back half of the room. Were it not for the painting, Machaira might have been tempted to roll around the bed and burrow under the sheets like a cub, but the room's overall barren, modern design left her cold and wanting. Fabian was lying on his side with his chin on one fist as if posing for a picture, gazing forlornly out of a floor-to-ceiling window next to the bed.

"I am so sorry I got you in trouble." Adaine opened, voice soft and hands clasped under her chin.

"Everything's fine," Fabian mumbled unconvincingly.

"Fabian – "

"But also," Adaine rolled over Fig. "Like, you made out with my sister." The wizard's expression made it clear that she thought these things should be considered even.

"Have some gnomish whiskey," Fig proffered the bottle to Fabian even though they were still about twenty-five feet away.

"What?"

"Have some gnomish whiskey." The tiefling repeated, walking across the room to hold the bottle in his face.

"Oh, uh, fine," Fabian stuttered before accepting the bottle, taking a swig, and retching. "Oh, uhg, ah, God! Oh, that's disgusting, oh my gods." The half-elf covered his mouth with his hand.

"I stole it from the hospital," Fig informed him. Fabian didn't respond. He was too busy coughing.

"Do you have any of the elvish wine left?" Adaine inquired.

"Yeah, fine elvish wine, yeah," Fig rambled, pulling a bottle and an extra flask out of her bag and passing them over to Adaine. "I have a flask for each."

"I think I would like to have a drink," Adaine admitted quietly, accepting both. The wizard sat on the edge of Fabian's bed and popped the cork with a small knife she fished out of her jacket. The wizard carefully poured some of the wine into the flask and took a pull, holding the wine for a moment before swallowing with a quiet sigh. Machaira wandered over to her and offered a sympathetic look. The rogue placed one hand on her shoulder, and Adaine immediately clasped it with her free hand.

"I'll try some alcohol," Kristen piped up, grinning hugely and pulling up Fabian's desk chair.

"Should we all just get drunk right now?" Gorgug wondered aloud.

"I guess," Fabian half rasped, half laughed. "Is it the mood?"

"I'm not gonna get drunk," Riz declined.

"What do you have?" Gorgug asked Fig. "Could I try some of it?"

"I've got some fine elven wine," Adaine offered.

"This tastes crazy," Kristen spoke up to talk over the elf, taking a second swig of the gnomish whiskey. Gorgug accepted the wine from Adaine and took a sip.

"I've got dwarven vodka and gnomish whiskey," Fig informed them, passing around the bottles and flasks. The tiefling offered Machaira the bottle of vodka, but Machaira held up a hand in refusal, lips curling.

"No thanks," she declined. "I'm more of a wine girl anyway." Motion from the corner of her eye caught Machaira's attention. Adaine was holding up her flask of elven wine toward her, eyes wide.

"Please, just a little," Adaine pleaded. "This has been a huge day. We should do something to celebrate, maybe unwind a little." The wizard bit her lip at the last part, nervousness tightening her shoulders. On one hand, Machaira was perfectly aware that drinking was only fun if you did it with your friends and sad otherwise. As Adaine's best friend, the request was weirdly rational. On the other hand, Kristen's words echoed through her head as she met Adaine's gaze, wondering if the elf was hoping to get her drunk for other reasons. When Machaira hesitated, something uneasy flickered through Adaine's gaze, blue eyes less confident than they had been for most of the day. The diviner started to withdraw the flask, and Machaira gently took hold of the hand holding it. The rogue slid her hand over Adaine's to brush across her fingers before pulling the flask away and taking a sip. The rich minerals and bold fruit flavors rioted across her tongue. When she refocused on Adaine, her crush was beaming at her, and Machaira's defenses crumbled.

"What the hell," she sighed, voice rumbling up from deep within her chest. Machaira walked around the side of the bed, passing Adaine by about three steps before leaping up into the air, twisting her body sideway to land back down on the edge of the bed with her head in Adaine's lap. Fabian shouted and put a hand to his heart as their friends laughed and cheered. But the rogue only had eyes for Adaine, who yelped as Machaira took possession of her legs. The tabaxi stared up at the elf, making eye contact as she took a second, longer pull of wine, tail curling up over her waist and feet crossed just off the edge of the bed. Adaine was already blushing but smiled with nervous joy. Machaira smacked her lips and swiped her tongue tip around her mouth. The wine was good, and she was already buzzed. Defenses sufficiently lowered, Machaira scooted into Adaine's stomach, nuzzling the wizard. Adaine immediately began to brush and scratch across Machaira's head with her nails, adding to the warm sensation of alcohol taking affect in her system. Machaira loosed a fleeting, rusty purr, right arm reaching around Adaine's back to hug her waist. The scout took another sip from the flask before passing it over to Adaine, who immediately thrust it back at Fig for a refill.

"Alright, yeah," Kristen cheered, voice already slurring.

"Comfy?" Adaine inquired teasingly, ignoring the human.

"Mmmm, very," Machaira asserted, head tilting to provide the delicate fingers better access. The sparkle in Adaine's eyes alone was worth letting down her guard a bit, and, if she was honest, Machaira was starved for her friend's attention. She hadn't let Adaine pet her since the sleepover and missed it terribly. Head already fuzzy, Machaira pulled her friend closer by the waist and rubbed her muzzle up Adaine's abdomen. She had been agonizing over her emotions for the high elf for so long… Through hazy eyes, Machaira watched her crush beam down at her, lovely fingers running all over her scars with neither fetishizing lust nor pity but affection for the ugly, short tabaxi that constantly took up her time. Maybe, if only for a little while, she could ignore the mountain of reasons why this would hurt her later and just enjoy the moment.

Adaine took a sip from the flask and offered it to Machaira again. Instead of taking the flask from Adaine, Machaira stretched up just enough to take another mouthful from the canteen directly, smacking her lips and grinning as she settled back into her new favorite pillow. Adaine's blush, which had been steadily fading, returned full force, wide eyes trying to process the full implications of Machaira's power play. The wizard moistened her lip, took another drink, and pet Machaira's muzzle, hand caressing the side of her face and head. The rogue purred her approval and playfully nipped at her shirt somewhere around her ribs. Adaine bit her lip and took another drink, darkened gaze waiting for Machaira's next move. The tabaxi settled back into her lap, mischievous smirk daring the other girl to respond, clawed fingertips dancing just under her shirt to brush across the base of her spine. Adaine's fingers instinctively tightened in her mane, and Machaira sighed, chest heaving in a silent exhalation before smiling her approval.

She had forgotten just how much of a lightweight she was.

During this brief exchange, the rest of their friends continued to converse, either oblivious to the building tension or willfully ignoring it. Probably the latter for most of them.

"I'll take some elvish wine," Fabian told Fig, grabbing the bottle from their enabler and swilling some. Kristen reached over toward him, and Fabian rolled across the bed, stretching to pass the bottle off to the human.

"When we do, like, wine and bread at church, they always use grape juice," Kristen stated. "I've never had actual wine before."

"Go to town, girl," Fig encouraged, grinning at the scene she had created.

"This is crazy," Kristen repeated. Machaira would normally call bullshit on the cleric's claim but decided that it wasn't worth it. _So, you gonna fuck her?_ Kristen's voice rolled around her head. Machaira tried to force it out. Adaine's hand passed over her neck, applying just enough pressure to stimulate the nerves there (and her imagination). Machaira hummed. Adaine smiled. Her whole body was already warm and relaxed from the wine. Kristen's voice was hard to push away. Machaira didn't like that. She wanted to just focus on her crush right now. Such pretty blue eyes, so happy just to be here with her… Machaira tightened her hold around Adaine, fingers playing across the diviner's back, outside the shirt but under jacket, cuddling in and tipping her head in whichever direction Adaine wanted.

She didn't want to lose this closeness.

The door creaked open, and Machaira tilted her head back to see what was happening. Cathilda, Fabian's Halfling maid, walked in with a tray of shot glasses.

"Alright, children, well hello there," Cathilda greeted them, nodding cheerfully about the group. "And would you like something to drink?"

"How did she know?" Fig wondered aloud, grinning at the smaller woman like she was the coolest thing since Bardic Inspiration.

"I guess I'll do a shot," Kristen agreed, stifling a hiccup. Between the punch at the Hudol party and the mix of drinks she'd had in the past few minutes, Machaira would normally caution the cleric to slow down. But at the moment, other things seemed more important.

"I believe we have a little bit of tequila here if you'd like, and there's a little – I can cut some limes – "

"You brought us a tray of tequila?" Gorgug clarified.

"Little tray of tequila for the master's son," she reiterated.

"Yes, please," Fabian agreed, nodding to the maid. "And, Cathilda, could you make my favorite snack?"

"Of course I can." Cathilda set the tray on Fabian's desk, which was much too far away for Machaira to maintain interest, and withdrew a tin from one apron pocket. The Halfling woman hummed as she unwound the tin, releasing a briny, fishy aroma before passing it off to Fabian.

"Thank you," Fabian nearly trilled, delicately eating one of the small fish, much to Fig's delight. "And any snacks for the rest of you?"

"I've only seen this on movies," Kristen interjected, looking around with wide eyes to makes sure everybody watched her bite into a lime and take a shot of tequila. Fig cackled at Kristen' subsequent gag. "Keep 'em coming!" She cried, swaying on her seat.

"Yeah, I'll take some snacks," Adaine accepted the offer with a neat smile and offered Machaira a tequila shot. "Do you want something?" Machaira tossed back the shot, set the glass on the floor and shifted to settle more comfortably in Adaine's lap. She didn't particularly care for tequila, and it didn't mix well with elvish wine, but it helped drown the pesky voices in the back of her head that said this was a bad idea.

"Mhmm," she hummed, smirking up at the other girl through half-lidded eyes. Machaira softly nipped at a finger that strayed too close to her jaws, briefly taking the digit inside her mouth and gripping it between her teeth. Machaira held eye contact as she slowly released her crush, resting the side of her jaw flush against Adaine's stomach. The whole episode was over and done with in maybe a second and a half, but it was enough to let Adaine know what kind of snack she wanted. The wizard grinned sheepishly and flushed a deep scarlet, not unhappy with the tabaxi but unsure what exactly to do with her. Some shred of rationality left in Machaira's brain warned her to go slower. Adaine wasn't some fling to run ragged. The rogue smiled, perhaps a little goofily, and nuzzled Adaine, purring quietly before settling more platonically against the high elf. Adaine released a breathy giggle and petted her, relaxing alongside Machaira.

This was nice. So soft and warm and happy. No wonder Adaine wanted her drunk.

"Am I allowed to smoke in here?" Fig asked Cathilda during the brief, infinite moments of seduction and intimacy between the other girls.

"Of course," Fabian assured her.

"Okay, cool." Fig lit her cigarette and settled back, smoke in one hand and whiskey in the other.

"I'm good on snacks," Kristen declined, swaying in her seat. "I'm not gonna eat. How crazy that we were at a party, and we're just now partying?"

"Hey, Cathilda?" Fig asked, ignoring the human.

"Yes?" The bard winked, dusting the Halfling in golden motes.

"Well thank you very much, I appreciate that." Cathilda nodded toward Fig.

"Cathilda, would you, mm, leave us?" Fabian requested.

"Oh, well, I'll do that right now," she agreed easily, turning on heel and fast walking toward the door.

"Thank you so much, Cathilda," Adaine called behind her.

"Thank you!" Machaira joined the others in thanking the retreating figure.

"Oh, alright, and you're welcome," she chortled merrily. Fabian got up to follow and locked the door behind her. Machaira took the opportunity to close her eyes and arch her back, pushing out her chest under the pretense of stretching. She held the stretch for a moment, suddenly opening her eyes and looking directly at Adaine. Caught staring, the wizard stiffened and blushed, mouth opening wordlessly to defend herself. Machaira winked and lay back down, smirking playfully as she lazily undid the first button on her jacket. Adaine could stare all she liked. As the conversation continued, Machaira's muddled brain struggled to stay on track. Adaine's hand on her head, stroking her scars, was so very reassuring. She was so pretty and smart and brave and kind…

Machaira loved her. She knew that. No one else had ever taken so much time and care with her, for her. But if Adaine felt differently, if she only wanted Machaira to experiment… well, the rogue could make do.

"I don't wanna be this guy while we're having a party," Riz began. "But, Fabian, we should – why do you think your dad is talking to this bank guy."

"Ugh, I don't know," the fighter sighed. "My father is in all sorts of business. He–he–he's stupid wealthy. I know none of you have wealthy parents – "

"I have wealthy parents," Adaine interrupted indignantly. Even on the subject of her least favorite people, the high elf never wanted to be talked down to. Machaira briefly tightened her hug around Adaine's waist.

"You have wealthy parents," Fabian conceded. "But you know what it's like. Our parents are involved in all number of things that I have no idea about."

"It's terrible," Adaine agreed, giving Machaira a more vigorous scratch. The tabaxi turned her muzzle into a renewed bout of petting, took Adaine's other hand, and gave it a squeeze. Adaine looked down gratefully before her expression soured with worry and guilt, hands suddenly hesitant over her. Machaira gently pulled Adaine's hand into her mane, trying to impart affection with her gaze. So long as her friends remembered that she wasn't a pet, she didn't mind taking the place of an emotional support animal. Adaine's face fell into relieved gratitude, and the wonderful petting continued.

"Special investments…" Kristen slurred, thankfully too drunk to really notice Adaine and Machaira. "Is wha' that guy – "

"Should we go to Bastion City?" Fig proposed. "Road trip?"

"Or we can, maybe, just borrow Bill Seacaster's cell phone and text this number?" Riz countered, gesturing toward Fabian.

"Why don't we, why…" Adaine stuttered a bit as everyone turned to look at her, hands tightening their hold on Machaira. "Or we can maybe look up what special investments means?"

"That – _hicc_," Machaira paused to swallow. " 'scuse me, that sounds less, less dangerous than stealing from, from the pirate." Face creased with concern, Adaine ruffled behind her ears, and Machaira lost the rest of that line of thoughts, already blurred vision hazing, prompting her to just close her eyes and drift until the diviner stopped. As Machaira rose back to proper consciousness, she gave Adaine a soft, appreciative smile.

This was nice. Maybe she didn't need to talk or think right now. She could just let this happen to her. She didn't have any control over their mission or relationship anyway.

"I'm still kinda hurt," Gorgug admitted, gingerly touching a raw, shiny burn on his shoulder.

"I am still kinda hurt as well," Adaine added, fingers brushing over a dark bruise on her forehead. "And I don't have any spells left."

"I am hurt too," Fig agreed.

"I think we all are," Machaira summarized. Adaine pursed her lips and reached out with a towards a hole in Machaira's jacket. The high elf hesitated, so Machaira nodded her permission. Gingerly, she reached through the hole to touch the wound beneath with one finger. Machaira winced slightly but smiled, giving Adaine's other hand a small squeeze. Adaine returned the smile, albeit a little shakily, and squeezed her back. None of them were fit for combat.

"Should we, do you have, like, a dope computer?" Riz asked Fabian.

"Of course," Fabian waved his hand dismissively. "I've got multiple dope computers. I mean, what do you want? I've literally bought anything I've ever wanted." Machaira's sympathy for the half-elf weakened. "I mean, look." Fabian clapped, and the entire right wall lit up.

"Avast." A disembodied voice greeted. "Hello, Fabian." Riz cackled.

"Good to see you, computer," Fabian replied heartily. "Uh, my friend was hoping to use you."

"Oh, wow." The voice claimed with the same robotic cheer.

"Hi," Riz began.

"Hardy har har, lower the main sail." The computer replied.

"Ah, ahoy, um…" The goblin trailed off, some of his social awkwardness from their first day of school returning.

"Please don't talk to my computer like that," Fabian requested. Adaine, Machaira, and Gorgug lost the battle against their giggles.

"Yes, I'm sorry, so sorry." Riz cleared his throat. "Mm–mhmm, sorry, I've never spoken to a computer like this before. Uh, can you do a Fantasy Google check on KVX investments, uh, KVX Bank, special investments?" The wall flashed, and Machaira squinted against the light, lips curling in a silent hiss. A loading screen of a little pirate ship sailing in a circle now dominated the wall.

"Sixteen-men-on-a-dead-man-chain." The computer sang what Machaira could only assume to be a sailor's ditty as it searched. The rest of them finally cracked, exhausted laughter bubbling up from the tipsy teens.

"Oh my god," Fig gasped, almost dropping her flask as she sagged against the side of the bed for support. The ditty cut off half way through, and the screen blinked to the KVX Bank homepage, which held no meaningful information other than that it was a large private bank.

"Do they have, like, a mission statement somewhere on their website or something?" Gorgug wondered aloud.

"Ooh, yeah, let's get into the depths," Fig agreed, knocking back another tequila shot. "Let's get into the 'about' page."

"Can we, can we find the, the profile of the banker who was here?" Kristen asked, blinking hugely.

"Alston Hughes," Fig recalled. As it turned out, Alston Hughes was featured on the website, though there wasn't much information. KVX named him head of special investments: 'helping the bank make specific individual investments to further the dynamic mission statement of this bank'.

"Hold on, computer pause," Fabian called out. "What, what exactly are we looking for? I mean, I'm unclear as to the information that we are hoping to acquire."

"Well, we know…" Fig started, paused, and pointed around the group. "Here's what we know: we know that Penelope Everpetal is involved somehow."

"Yes."

"Yeah." Fabian and Kristen confirmed.

"We know that she is the reason that…" The tiefling gestured vaguely toward Adaine. "Aelwyn did what she did tonight. We also know that bank is shady as hell."

"Who hires a pirate unless they want to do something – thing, brutal," Machaira stammered, shaking her head to try and clear it.

"Exactly."

"Right." Adaine and Fig agreed in unison.

"We have one maybe thing, and one very clear thing." Fabian gestured toward the sky and floor respecyively.

"Do we know what Penelope Everpetal's parents do?" Adaine asked, looking about the room and frowning. "I don't know anything about her except that she wants to be – "

"She always hangs out with Dayne, right?" Gorgug reminded them.

"Computer," Fabian commanded, raising his voice to the pompous tone he used to always use around others… well, more pompous anyway. "Please Fantasy Google search Everpetal." In some distant corner of her brain that was still functioning properly, Machaira wondered why they called it Fantasy Google instead of just Google.

"Dead men tell no tales." The computer replied and began to sing its ditty again. They all had another laugh at that, even if it was a little weak. Gods, laughing felt so right after the night they'd had. The screen flashed again, this time displaying Penelope Everpetal's social media profile. Normally, Machaira would be embarrassed to reveal that she didn't even recognize the website, but she was much too drunk for that, and Adaine was stilling passing her wine whenever Machaira held out her hand. The primary picture on her profile was of her kissing Dayne with a crown filter, followed by vacation photos of Penelope in Highcourt, Fallinel, and Kalembrinor. Penelope was making the same face in all four pictures, and Machaira found her increasingly less attractive with each one.

"She takes a lot of vacations," Gorgug noticed. Eventually, however, they found a younger picture of Penelope Everpetal with Sam Nightingale.

"But, she's – "

"That's one of the missing girls," Riz reminded them, cutting off Adaine.

"Yeah – " Adaine began again.

"Who are her, I, we knew that Sam Nightingale was her friend," Fig stammered, blinking hard as the tiefling encroached on the limits of her impressive tolerance. "We wanna find out who her parents are and why she's rich." Riz pulled up Penelope's friend list, scrolled until he found a mutual friend, and managed to dip into an album of untagged pictures on Penelope's account labeled 'Old Photos'. Machaira smiled behind the goblin's back. For all his dorkiness, Riz really was great at all of that intelligent investigation stuff. That's why he was the better rogue of the two of them. Included in the album were best friend forever photos of Penelope and a Halfling girl Machaira recognized from the picture in Riz's room: Penny Luckstone. Riz kept scrolling and found more pictures of Penelope with Katya Cleaver, Danielle Barkstock, Antiope Jones, Ostentatia Wallace, and Sam Nightingale; all of the missing girls were there, smiling alongside the Aguefort Queen. At the very end was one of Penelope Everpetal and Zelda Donovan, posted earlier today.

"Zelda!" Adaine, Kristen, and Machaira gasped in drunken unison.

"Wait, what," Gorgug sat straighter, lips pulling down from his tusks in a worried frown.

"Your girlfriend," Adaine reminded him.

"Oh, sure, but we're not dating," Gorgug protested softly. Riz erupted in strained laughter.

"He does not have a girlfriend," Fabian confirmed imperiously.

"Hssss," Machaira spat at the half-elf. Fig snorted, and Adaine petted her ear with an approving smile as the fighter flinched away.

"He has a girlfriend more than you do, Fabian," Fig sniped back. Fabian and Fig started to bicker, but Riz spoke up over them.

"All of these girls have gone missing, and then there's a picture of Zelda," he summarized. "So, Zelda's in danger."

"Yeah, Zelda's next," Kristen declared, trying to speak over the end of the goblin's sentence.

"Do you know where Zelda lives since she's your girlfriend?" Riz inquired the half-orc.

"Did you ever get a number from her?" Fig asked casually. Adaine perked up, blue eyes sparkling, and Machaira rolled off her lap to sit up, smiling at the increasingly uncomfortable berserker.

"She's not my girlfriend, guys," Gorgug protested quietly.

"Did you get a number from your girlfriend?" Kristen demanded immediately.

"I didn't get a girlfriend," Gorgug whispered, staring at his lap. All four girls (and Riz) broke out into sympathetic giggles, smiling fondly at their barbarian.

"You didn't get a girlfriend?" Adaine questioned, a soft teasing note pulling the sting from her words. Machaira reached out, missed, and patted Gorgug's knee on her second attempt.

"I didn't get her number," Gorgug confirmed. Fig, still smiling at her bestie, shook herself and turned to Riz, struggling to return her face to a business expression.

"Okay, so we think that Penelope Everpetal is a bad guy, right?"

"Oh, she definitely bad," Adaine confirmed.

"Okay, we know she's a bad guy," Fig amended, pulling a notebook out of her bag and beginning to flip through the pages. "But what do we know that's going on in the world?"

"Collective dismissal of the prevalent casual aggression toward women?" Machaira suggested, voice slurring even in her own ears. "Also Basrar's – oh! We should go there."

"Besides that, I took some notes about what we dealt with in the past," the tiefling explained, withdrawing a pencil and flipping to a new page. "Okay, well, I copied Riz's case notes. We had – you just told us that stuff about Kalvaxis, the main bad guy in the Red Wastes. And he owned the – and he was like in charge – he was using The Nightmare King and the Necronomicon as pawns." Fig huffed, frustrated as the booze siphoned away her speaking ability. "And then there was a big showdown where Alexandria defeated him and disbanded the monarchy." For a moment, everyone but Riz just frowned. Apparently, Fig cared about this case a lot more than they realized. Riz was grinning like a madman.

"So, what does that have to do with this?" Gorgug wondered aloud.

" 'Cause, Coach Daybreak – " Fig began.

"Wait, what is Kalvaxis?" Gorgug interrupted.

"He was the bad guy," Fig surmized.

"He was some kind of demon guy," Adaine told him.

"He was some demon guy who the knights – "

"Kalvaxis?" The half-orc interrupted Fig yet again.

"OH!" Adaine shouted. Machaira flattened her ears and shook her head, annoyed by the sudden noise, and almost fell back down to the bed. "KVX!" This time they all exclaimed alongside Adaine, just drunk enough for that correlation to look like hard fact.

"So – "

"The bank," Kristen said over Riz. "Fucking bank." Adaine suddenly sat straighter, prompting a displaced Machaira to shift further away with a mew of complaint.

"Riz, there's something I need to tell you," Adaine told the goblin, voice low and serious. Riz frowned and rested his chin on clasped knuckles.

"What's up?" Adaine briefly glanced over at Machaira, seeming to draw some confidence from the tabaxi's presence.

"Umm, uh, I, I know something about your dad." Everyone sat up straighter for that one. Riz's jaw worked for a few seconds, trying to form proper words.

"I, uh, he worked for the State Department. He was, like, a, had, like, a disease, and he died." Riz responded quietly. The detective maintained eye contact but lost most of his normal coherence. Adaine shook her head. Machaira struggled to blink away her inebriation. Pok Gukgak was the scariest topic in the Gukgak apartment. His family was stilling mourning him. What in the Prime Material Plane had Adaine uncovered?

"No, he died on the ship that sank," she stated. "He was in the secret service, and he died on the ship that sank." For a moment, silence gripped the party.

"Your dad died on September first?" Fig inquired.

"No…" Riz said eventually. "He died five years ago."

"So… he died in a different ship that sank?" Adaine tried, frowning.

"Why are people dying in ships so much?"

"My dad died in a ship that sank?" Fig and Riz spoke simultaneously.

"Wait a second," Fig jumped back in before anyone else could interject. "Sinking Ships throughout history have been used to start wars."

"You're right," Adaine confirmed. Okay, so that was Machaira's new fact of the day. "But who is trying to start a war with who?"

"Coach Daybreak was probably trying to start a war when he did the perditional contradoxy thing because that's technically…" Fig trailed off into vague gestures, cheeks swelling as she held back a belch.

"Right," Adaine continued her train of thought. "Breaking down barriers between two worlds, ah, sorry, the two countries, ah, um, Solace and High Court, because High Court is a religious country, right? It's, it's, ah, kyriarchy, it's run by the church?"

"The – _hicc_ – theocracy," Kristen corrected.

"Yeah," Fig agreed, nodding.

"Maybe we don't have all of the answers yet," Gorgug stated.

"I don't think that we do." Fig and Adaine said at once. "But I feel like we're closer." The elf added.

"But KVX, yeah, I, I think tha's the biggest thing," Kristen stammered, blinking owlishly.

"Is Kalvaxis…" Adaine paused, eyes narrowed in thought. "I mean, if he's some kind of demon that means that he's immortal, right?" Adaine looked about the room for confirmation.

"Not, not really," Machaira rumbled, tail flicking impatiently across the bed behind her. She wanted Adaine's lap back. "You can kill a demon if, if you reaaalllly want to."

"Can you ask your dad about Kalvaxis?" Gorgug inquired, turning to Fig. The tiefling grinned, took out her phone, and tried to FaceTime her dad. As they waited for the obnoxious chimes of a processing call to complete, Adaine noticed Machaira's snapping tail and seized it, dragging the fluffy limb toward her with a look that dared Machaira to try and free herself. Instead, the rogue flopped down next to her and curled the rest of her limb on the bed beside them. Adaine met her big-pupil, innocent expression and smirked, petting and scratching her tail. Satisfied that the wizard was at least playing with her fur again, Machaira lay docile, happy to let her friend do with her as she pleased.

The buzz from the wine made it hard to think, but that was okay. Thinking never helped her much anyway. Everyone had always said she was dumb. And the fuzziness in her head made it easier to just let things happen to her.

"It's not going through." Fig eventually declared. "I'll just text him."

"I, I have, I have an idea, too," Kristen announced, paddling Fabian's swivel chair about the room with her feet. "Maybe, Gorgug, you could try to find Zelda's online profile?"

"Can I use your computer?" Gorgug asked Fabian.

"And you should start texting with her," Kristen elaborated, swaying slightly.

"Yeah, can you text Zelda?" Adaine asked him, face a mask or professionalism set with two, sparkling, mischievous eyes. Machaira grinned.

"Jus' be suave, jus', like, woo her," Kristen instructed.

"You're trying to give dating advice?" Machaira demanded, perhaps more loudly than she had to. The human looked briefly hurt, but the alcohol in her system helped delay any regret Machaira might have felt for her harshness.

"Can you guys kinda help me out?" Gorgug asked them.

"Ask her to meet you, tonight" Fig told him immediately. Unlike the others, Fig's expression was… not devoid of empathetic excitement, but more calculating, maybe because she was the only one in the room with any real tolerance.

"Okay, tonight, ah, alright," Gorgug exhaled. "Do you mind if I use your computer?" Gorgug inquired of Fabian again.

"Nhh, uh, ah, mmn, your crystal won't do?" Fabian dithered. Fig and Kristen broke into disbelieving laughter as the barbarian shrank in on himself. Adaine offered Gorgug and sympathetic look, and Machaira kicked at Fabian.

"Wow," Fig and Kristen exclaimed.

"Don't kick at me," Fabian complained. Machaira flashed her teeth in reply.

"Alright, you're right," Gorgug acquiesced, shimmying his crystal out of his pocket. Adaine frowned disapprovingly at Fabian and tugged Machaira closer by the shoulders, pulling the tabaxi between her and the half-elf.

"Let him use your computer, man," Fig rebuked, and the other girls echoed her.

"No, nobody gets to just use my computer because you have a – "

"There's a bunch of porn on there," Kristen asserted.

"– texting device." Fabian finished, giving Kristen a hard look.

"There's a bunch of porn," The cleric repeated.

"There's not a bunch of porn on there." Fabian quickly waved the comment away.

"So much," Machaira predicted, rolling onto her back properly. Adaine grinned and giggled.

"We don't have to look at your porn," Gorgug assured Fabian, looking up from his crystal.

"You're right," Adaine told Kristen smugly.

"There's soooo much porn," Machaira agreed, scratching her shoulders against the bed. Adaine placed a hand on her shoulder and slid up to her mane, thin fingers pulling nicely at her coat.

"Computer," Fig half-sang in her best Fabian impression. "Search porn."

"Yo ho ho, accessing pornography." The computer replied immediately.

"Stop!" Fabian shouted over the party's laughter. "Stop! Stop, pause, PAUSE!" Despite Fabian's pleas, the entire wall still showed a video of a man in a pirate's outfit banging some fake-tit porn star. "Everyone, look away, look away!" Fabian waved his hands for emphasis while the party ignored him in favor of the screen. Kristen and Fig were clearly into it. Riz and Gorgug merely seemed amused by Fabian's reaction. Adaine had leaned back, eyes huge and hands held up as if fanning her neck, expression torn between alarm and entertainment.

"Now this is a party," Machaira declared, sitting up and settling her back against Adaine's side so that Adaine could use her as a shield if she wanted to while simultaneously allowing Machaira to snuggle with her. The high elf immediately clung to her shoulders, not turned away from the, admittedly, quite rough porn on the wall but still taking full advantage of her tabaxi barrier. Machaira looped her tail around Adaine's waist, leaned her head back onto the wizard's shoulder, and smiled with all the drunken affection she could muster. Adaine's grin flickered between flustered amusement and aroused affection as she took hold of Machaira's tail like a security blanket, scooting even closer. Machaira snorted and laughed, tilting her head to the side to rest against Adaine's, wreathed in the smell of her crush.

Machaira was glad she could be here for her friend. And Adaine was her best friend, her very best friend. She shouldn't overthink this.

"Computer – I'm not into this," Fabian screamed. "Stop, stop! This is my father's stuff." The computer blinked off, but the damage had been done.

"Priva–tear–me–a–new–one," Fig cat–called. Machaira, Riz, Kristen, and Adaine all grinned while Fabian sputtered uselessly for an extra few seconds.

"There's no need for puns, alright," Fabian chastised the snickering bard.

"Wow, you guys, this is a wild night for me," Kristen slurred, happy smile stretched under too-bright eyes.

"Your dad is looking at porn on your computer?" Adaine inquired of Fabian, frowning around a smile.

"That's weirder," Kristen informed him.

"Well, it's a, it's a central hub, or something, I, I don't – "

"I'll try to find Zelda on my crystal," Gorgug relieved Fabian of trying to excuse away his porn and resumed tapping the tiny crystal with his huge thumbs. Adaine leaned over Machaira's shoulder to peer at the screen, left arm still around the scout's other shoulder. He eventually found her on the same social media site from before. Zelda's profile photo was a monochrome blurry-ink filter of an eye with a piece of hair hiding the rest of her face.

"She's really artistic," Fig told Gorgug, clapping a hand to his shoulder.

"So cool," Gorgug mumbled, finger hovering over the screen.

"Such a cool picture," Fabian agreed.

"You have to – don't let Fabian talk yet," Kristen piped up, waving a hand in Gorgug's general direction.

"Don't take dating advice from Fabian," Adaine asserted, shifting to lean more comfortably against Machaira's side. The tabaxi happily looped an arm around her, head weaving as she tried to stay upright. Gorgug clicked the button.

"Okay, I added her," Gorgug announced.

"Uhhh…" Kristen sat up and almost fell out of her chair. "Okay, and then send a message too, just to, like – "

"Yeah," Adaine agreed, nodding at the half-orc.

"You need to chat her," Fig confirmed.

"I have to wait for her to accept my friend request, right?" Gorgug asked them quietly, clearly out of his depth. The screen lit up with a new message: friend request confirmed. That message was still on top of the screen when Zelda unfriended him. Gorgug pouted. Zelda instantly sent him a new friend request only to delete the request that same heartbeat. "What?" The friend request came back, deleted again, then came back. Fig gaped at the screen while Machaira and Adaine frowned. The rogue reached out to clumsily pat Gorgug's arm. This went on long enough to make apparent that Zelda was freaking out. The girls _awww_'d.

"Send her a, a, a message say–saying…" Kristen began, trailing away as she bobbed drunkenly in her chair.

"I don't want to freak you out," Adaine suggested quickly.

"Hey, what?" Gorgug typed aloud.

"Tell her you just got a tattoo," Fig urged.

"I didn't get – do I have to go get a tattoo now?" Gorgug asked, eyes huge.

"Noooo," Machaira moaned, trying to lean forward and slipping to fall heavily against Adaine. "Doooon't. Just, just be you. You're so swee–ee–t!" Machaira hiccupped. Adaine put a hand on her shoulder, half supporting her and half pushing her away.

"Don't listen to Fig, and don't listen to Fabian. Do listen to Machaira." Adaine told Gorgug as she helped Machaira sit straighter. "Are you okay?" The rogue nodded, closing her eyes as Adaine wrapped an arm around her shoulder, keeping her close. She let the wizard feel around her face, purring softly at the attention.

They were already right here on a bed. When Adaine made her move, all Machaira had to do was let go and let it happen. She'd done it before with people much less caring.

"What's up?" Gorgug texted aloud.

"Do you want to see some art?" Adaine suggested. "Ask her to go and see some art."

"I don't know – "

"It's nighttime though," Kristen interrupted Gorgug's nervous response. Adaine laughed, perhaps realizing her own mistake.

"I can't believe that I just found out that my dad sank in a ship and we're helping him flirt right now," Riz stated. Adaine slipped off of Machaira's shoulder, laughter increasing as the insanity of the day wore on.

"Take some gnomish whiskey and shut up, alright? Ow, stop kicking me." Fabian complained. Machaira, suddenly very upset for Riz as this aspect of the night crashed over her, crawled across the bed to grab Riz and pull him into a hug. The goblin choked and wiggled free, finally cracking a smile as he evaded another attempted hug. Machaira whined lowly at him, reaching out with one hand as she lay over the edge of the bed. The concept of actually getting up to chase him was nonexistent.

"Come here and get sympathized," she complained. The laughter in the room redoubled, but Adaine rubbed her back, so Machaira gave up on trying to comfort Riz and allowed herself to get lost in the sensation.

"I will play your favorite sad song," Fig offered the inquisitor.

"What's up?" Gorgug began texting aloud again. "How's your semester going?"

"What?" Kristen exclaimed.

"That's so bad," Fabian agreed.

"Tell her you got a tattoo," Fig repeated.

"She's actually in danger right now," Riz reminded them loudly, pushing aside the bottle of gnomish whiskey. "Say that you need to meet up."

"Don't say you need to meet up," Adaine ordered.

"Yeah, that's thirsty," Fabian agreed. "Don't say you need to meet up. Say that you would like to meet up."

"This isn't a date," Riz claimed. Machaira frowned. Where had he gotten that idea?

"He already did it," Adaine countered Riz, smiling that neat, cheerful smile that said the goblin was absolutely wrong.

"Tell her that your tattoo got infected," Fig goaded.

"She doesn't even know I have a tattoo."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Gorgug and Adaine exclaimed at once.

"Hey, what's up? How's your semester?" Gorgug shouted his text. Adaine grinned, and Machaira tried to focus on the half-orc, struggling to shake away the haze in her brain. "We would like to meet up."

"We?" Fabian, Fig, Machaira, and Adaine exclaimed.

"No, that's weird," Kristen told him. Adaine and Fig groaned in distress at Gorgug's lack of tact.

"You, you, you, you, you," Fabian repeated, jabbing a finger at Gorgug until the berserker fixed his mistake.

"I think you might be in trouble LOL?" Gorgug finished. Riz's shrieking laughter drowned everyone else's protests. Adaine lowered her head and rested her fingertips against her eyes, silently mourning as the rest of the party collectively lost it. Somewhere in the cacophony, the faint, electronic whir of a sent message sounded. Shortly thereafter, Gorgug's crystal beeped a few more times, signaling new messages. Fortunately, Gorgug normally read his messages aloud anyway.

"Not much, you? * good, not not much * not, not much. I didn't mean to type not much. I meant to say good, my semester's going good." Gorgug looked up and turned the phone to the group, squinting. "What does that mean?"

"Just tell her that you need to meet up right now," Fig pushed. Gorgug's crystal beeped again.

"I'm in trouble LOL, like, how? Do you… LOL… what?" Gorgug read, frowning as he looked around the room.

"Oh my god," Fig groaned. "She thinks that you're being, like, flirty with her."

"Okay, say: let's meet up tonight. I know this sounds crazy, but where are you?" Kristen suggested.

"What if we just went to, like, get ice cream?" Gorgug asked. Riz started to comment, but Kristen yelled over him.

"Invite her, invite her!"

"Yes, invite her to ice cream," Adaine confirmed more calmly. Gorgug sent the text, and they waited. For about two minutes, Zelda didn't respond. Chatter amongst the party never ceased, as they went over what Gorgug should have done, what they should do next, and what this pause might mean. During this time, Machaira crawled up to Adaine, using all of her rogue training to minimize suspicion.

"Why didn't you invite me to get ice cream?" Machaira murmured in Adaine's ear.

"Do you want to go get ice cream?" Adaine asked.

"I want _you _to_ invite me_ to ice cream," Machaira whined softly, hands fisted in the sheets between them. Adaine stiffened and inhaled sharply.

"Um, would, uh, would you like to come get ice cream with me?" Adaine whispered, moistening her lips. Machaira lay her cheek down on Adaine's shoulder and looked up at her with big eyes, fangs gleaming around what she hoped was a soft smile.

"I'd love to," she whispered back, voice rising from deep within her chest. Machaira parted her jaws and gently, carefully bit Adaine's shoulder, moving to press her chest against Adaine's side as she did so. The wizard stiffened and shot the tabaxi an accusing look. Machaira stared back with wide, innocent eyes as she unsheathed a claw and ghosted the hooked point over the skin of Adaine's back, under her shirt and just above the waistband of her jeans. Adaine clenched her jaw and legs, barely repressing another shiver. Machaira smiled but pulled back, arm sliding out from the elf's back. Adaine reached down to grab Machaira's hand in hers, interlocking their fingers. Machaira smirked and reached around her to take the flask of elven wine.

"I'll be good," Machaira promised under her breath before she took another swig. Adaine bit her lip at the scout's low whisper, excited but very nervous. Machaira's gaze was earnest as she pulled away and sat back, mouthing the word _promise_. Adaine pouted slightly as the conversation continued around them, fingers playing restless with Machaira's hand, eyes flickering to the fading pressure mark just visible on her shoulder. The high elf tugged on her hand, and Machaira scooted a bit closer. The wine was half as nice as Adaine's hand in hers. It also made everything so much easier to accept, so much less scary.

Adaine already had her mind and heart. Machaira had been, was still, only too happy to hand them over. But if the diviner didn't want them, she was welcome to Machaira's body. There was no one else the scout wanted to give that to anyway. She would enjoy it so long as she didn't think about what Adaine _didn't_ want from her. She just wanted to be good for something. For someone. For Adaine. If only for a little while.

"Oh, uh, ah, it's her!" Gorgug started, fumbling his crystal as it buzzed. "So sorry, I dropped my crystal in the toilet. I'm on my computer now. LOL, forget about the toilet thing, that didn't happen, something else happened. I took a pause in the conversation for a different reason, not the toilet. Forget about the toilet thing I said."

"You cannot date this person, Gorgug." Fabian declared empirically.

"You absolutely have to date this person, Gorgug." Kristen declared with just as much finality but less coherently.

"Who else is he gonna to date?" Adaine demanded of Fabian.

"Alright, fair," the fighter conceded, waving aside his previous statement. Machaira lightly slapped Adaine on the arm.

"Gorgug's okay," she chided. " 'N Zelda is, is, is the only person he's gonna date. She's good." Machaira frowned and blinked, trying to remember her point. Adaine blinked, lips forming a small **o** as she realized how that might have sounded.

"I mean, she's perfect for you because she's very nice," the high elf assured Gorgug before turning aside, expression caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace as she gave up on trying to dig herself out of that particular hole.

"Invite her to ice cream and say you're…" Kristen started to yell in an attempt to drown out Adaine, paused to hiccup, and continued. "Say we're gonna pick her up and go to ice cream."

"Yes."

"Yeah." Fig and Adaine agreed as one.

"And then you two hop on the bike, and you pick her up on the bike," Kristen waved a finger vaguely around the room, loopy grin hinting at how many tequila shots she had snuck in that night. Gorgug's crystal buzzed again.

"On my way to Basrar's right now, LOL. Hope you like banana sundaes because I also like them and then that would be a thing we had in common." He read out loud, already beginning to reply. Gorgug's verbal texting habits really were convenient. "That'd be a good for me too."

"_A_ good for you too?" Adaine demanded.

"That'd be a good thing for me too," Gorgug sent another text, and the wizard turned to regard Machaira with fond exasperation. "To eat a banana split. I guess I like them too."

"I guess?" Fig ridiculed, slapping his arm. "Commit, man."

"Alright, alright, cool," Riz waved his arms in a _cut_ motion. "Let's go to the ice cream shop."

"How are you doing, Riz?" Fig asked. Machaira leaned across the bed to make another grab at Riz, but the goblin was much too far away.

"Why are the ships five years apart?" Riz burst, spreading his hands. "Why was my dad on the one ship – "

"Did your dad die on September first is what I'm asking." Fig interjected.

"No, he died five years ago," Riz repeated.

"No, but I'm saying was it five years ago on September first?"

"No…" Riz replied slowly. "He died on the first Saturday after September first, a few days after the first."

"Maybe so, but maybe it's like a weekday thing?" Adaine proposed, shaking off the fuckery of the past half hour and reentering work mode. Machaira sat back to watch the gears turn once more. "It's, like, a first Saturday in September kind of thing, or a lunar calendar enchantment – "

"Is there, like, a prophetic time for…" Fig trailed off, gesturing with her hands toward the ship model.

"Let's talk on the way," Gorgug proposed, standing and zipping his tattered hoodie. They all muttered agreements and began to get up. Fabian muttered something about his computer and shuffled off toward a smaller, crystalline monitor on a side desk, probably going to hide his porn better. Fig tapped out a text to her dad, and Machaira forced herself to her feet with a reluctant growl. She stumbled over to Riz and gave him a light, one-arm side-hug. Her fellow rogue accepted the squeeze, gave her a smaller, quicker one in return, and muttered something about being fine before slipping away. The goblin waved his hands to round the party – sans Fabian – together.

"Hey, guys, isn't there something with, like, how doing something through that gate might not bring about the apocalypse but might bring back the monarchy or something?" Machaira blinked owlishly, having not followed any of that, but Adaine nodded.

"That's what I'm thinking," Fig agreed.

"Like a captain?" Riz stated, glancing at Fabian behind them.

"Do you know who wanted a monarchy is Penelope," Fig countered.

"I…" Adaine trailed away.

"Yeah, that's – " Riz stopped, eyes stretching wide as he stood straighter and leaned back, clues falling in line behind his eyes like puzzle pieces. "The prom king and queen?" Fig nodded. "Jesus Christ, that's nuts."

"Who, who's this Christ guy anyway?" Machaira mumbled, still trying to process Fig and Riz's bombshell.

"You think she, she wants to be, like, eternal prom king and queen?" Kristen asked.

"Eternal prom king and queen," Fig and Adaine confirmed, nodding with tipsy conviction.

"They wanna be… her and Dayne want to be king and queen of the ent-entire land." Kristen declared, eys wide and a little unfocused.

"There's no way that they could ever reach that level of…" Fig trailed off.

"Of prom king and queen?" Riz guessed the rest of her sentence.

"Wait, if someone is trying to bring the – "

"What do Dayne's parents do?" Fig interrupted Gorgug. They all talked over each other for another two minutes before realizing that no one knew. "Okay, we're kinda fucked up, and Gorgug has a date." Fig swung her bass around and played a strumming, upbeat, hopeful melody. After about a minute of playing, red energy curled off the tiefling's instrument. Their wounds closed, burns smoothed over, and bruises faded. The party, still ranging from tipsy to drunk, applauded and headed out for Basrar's. As they left the manor, Machaira tripped on a carpet, and Adaine lunged out to grab her elbow. Even though the wizard only made contact after Machaira had already caught herself, the gesture was appreciated nonetheless.

"Thanks," Machaira mumbled, voice slurred even to her own ears. "You're a good friend."

"So are you," Adaine assured her. "But my gods, you weren't kidding when you said that you were a lightweight. This is kinda ridiculous."

"Mmmm, guess I'm going to need you to look out for me," Machaira murmured, ears flicking up, whiskers rotating forward, and lips curling into a smirk. Adaine blushed, red beginning to creep into her cheeks.

"I, I can do that," she whispered nervously, hands skittering over her body, tucking hair behind her ears and straightening her jacket. "I, I can – wow, you really are, um, affectionate when you're drunk." Machaira tilted her head, tail waving behind her.

"Is that bad?" She asked, genuinely curious while simultaneously teetering on a some impossibly dark precipice. Adaine bit her lip and shook her head, and the precipice vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"I, I think – no. No, maybe, maybe this will be easier. I mean, I, I have some things I want to do – to talk to you about and I, uh, this might be a better way to do that." Machaira slid up alongside the blushing elf and looped one arm through hers, the first time she had ever been so bold. Adaine made a small strangled sound and stiffened, staring between Machaira's face and their interlaced fingers. Machaira squeezed Adaine's arm between her arm and her body, and, after a small start, the wizard reciprocated the gesture. Adaine was clearly out of her depth and terribly nervous but still smiling, still happy to have the tabaxi so docile and receptive to her. Machaira lingered on Adaine's arm for a few more blissful moments, pretending that this meant more than it did as she looked up into those beautiful blue eyes that haunted her dreams.

"Whatever you want," Machaira promised softly, breath sharp with the alcohol in her system. "You can have whatever you want from me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments and criticisms are appreciated. Hope you all have a great day, and, to quote Matthew Mercer himself, don't forget to love each other.


End file.
